


Together in the Darkness

by youbuggme



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Asylum, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, R plus L equals J, Repressed Memories, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youbuggme/pseuds/youbuggme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It was where Cersei put all of her problems. The boy who could ruin her marriage for a second time, the girl who almost stole her brother’s heart again, the child who remembered: all of them. And now this little girl would be joining them.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this random idea a while ago and have been messing around with it on and off. I have a lot of ideas for it, but I first have to actually work on it. I'll add chapters as they come to me, but for right now I need to finish some of my other projects :)  
> I usually write Throbb with Sansaery as a background so this is my first where it is the opposite. It's not tagged yet because I don't have plans with them for a while, but there will be minor Throbb. The main pairings are the ones tagged right now. Primarily Sansaery and Gendrya.

“Now, don’t you worry, little bird,” Cersei Baratheon smiled down at the young girl by her side outside the peeling yellow taxi, “they are going to help you here, I promise.”

The girl nodded her head, loose red curls bouncing as she did. Her blue eyes were wide on the woman before her. She wore a blue sweater and brown pants, very noticeable used and old. A brown leather tote resting beside her, curtsey of the taxi driver. The girl was only seventeen.

“How long do I have to stay?” she asked in a soft, song bird voice. It came out as a faint, timid whisper.

Cersei Baratheon put two gentle hands on the girl’s slender shoulders, an act of comfort and encouragement. “As long as it takes for you to get better, my dear.”

Downcast, the girl nodded her head. Tears began to collect in her eyes but she wiped them furiously. She knew crying would not be permitted. She didn’t want to meet the paddle again. “What if I never get better?”

Cersei stood to her full height, releasing her hands from the girl and turning around, not looking at the girl. “You will. Now come along, we are going to be late.”

Together, the two left the taxi behind and walked up the narrow stone path to the large stone building before them. A large wrought iron fence stood before it with the words _Harrenhal Asylum_ on the top arch. The woman walked with strong purpose, opening the gates and letting the girl through who was carrying the lone brown leather tote of all her possessions.

The two approached the large wooden door. Cersei raised her hand, grabbing hold of the bronze door knocker; there was no doorbell or any signs of modernity, save for the recently established lamps that flanked the path to the building. The building was archaic and half in ruins, although seemed to be under repair. With three knocks, Cersei dropped the knocker and looked over at the girl accompanying her.

Cersei was finally getting rid of that problem child. She had been trying to do so for many years and she finally succeeded. After years, the girl broke and Cersei could now drop her off here of all places. It was where Cersei put all of her problems. The boy who could ruin her marriage for a second time, the girl who almost stole her brother’s heart again, the child who remembered: all of them. And now this little girl would be joining them.

The doors opened and an old, weathered man stood there. His dark eyes danced upon seeing Cersei and her traveling companion. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“Mrs. Baratheon, it is good to see you again,” he reached out and grabbed her hand in both of his, laying a kiss upon it.

“Mr. Qyburn,” Cersei withdrew her hand to put it behind the young girl’s back, nudging her forward. “This is Sansa, Sansa Stone.”

“Miss Stone,” Qyburn turned his attention to the girl, “it’s a pleasure.”

“Hello,” Sansa let out a timid voice.

“She has everything she will need,” Cersei continued, still not stepping inside. It was a rule of hers. She never stepped amongst the ones she had banished to this horrid place. “Should a problem arise, you know what to do.”

Qyburn nodded his head, holding out his hand for Sansa to take. Sansa looked up at Cersei one last, hopeful time.

“Go along, little bird,” Cersei cooed. “Just do as you are told and you’ll be out of here in no time.”

Little Sansa believed her as always and took Qyburn’s hand cautiously. Cersei watched from the steps as Qyburn pulled Sansa inside toward the main hall, the door slowly closing as they walked. Cersei didn’t leave until it was fully shut. Once closed, a dark smiled came to her face and she spun on her heel. Her taxi was waiting to take her far away from here and back to her family she had once again protected. She had learned much from her past and she would _not_ be making the same mistakes twice.

* * *

Sansa Stone stood in the middle of a vast hall with a man she had only met moments ago. She knew why she had come here and she knew that it was all for the best. It didn’t mean she liked it, but Mrs. Baratheon was right, Sansa was sick and needed help.

“Let me first give you a quick tour and a small introduction to my staff,” Mr. Qyburn led Sansa through the large hall. “This is our lobby where visitors can come and where guests check-in and check-out. Everyone who comes to either visit or stay here must get a thorough search of their belongings. We treat many ailments here and we can’t have new guests or visitors bringing in any outside toxins. We host many addicts here and they can be very creative.”

Sansa nodded her head quickly, noting that Qyburn used the word “guests” rather than “patients”. It didn’t fool Sansa in what she really was in the end. Mrs. Baratheon had already told her as much when she helped Sansa pack her belongings.

Qyburn opened one of the doors leading away from the lobby. This room was drastically smaller and plain. It held a simple long table and three wardrobes that looked original to the castle.

Qyburn gestured Sansa to put her bag on the table. She did as she was told and watched as he opened it. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as Qyburn left no stone unturned. He emptied the tote entirely and unfolded every article of clothing. Occasionally, he would pull an item off to the side. Her toiletry bag went under further scrutiny. Nearly all the items she had packed were put to the side, even the bag itself. Qyburn didn’t explain anything as he conducted his search and once he finished, he piled everything back in the tote with little care. Once he closed the bag, he pushed it to the side and brought the items he had taken to the side in front of him.

“Now, Miss Stone,” Qyburn met her eyes, “these items will not be permitted any further inside unless with permission from one of my staff members or they will be returned to you upon your departure.”

“Why?” Sansa spoke up shyly. “Why those items?”

Qyburn’s eyes danced once more. “Buttons have now been labeled a choking hazard here as of recent events,” he picked up one of her buttoned blouses carefully. “Make up, jewelry, beauty products, and nail polishes are luxury items. Now, you can earn the right to use these with good behavior and progress in your track as long as a staff member is present. Only jewelry with significant important can be released to a guest and only after approval from both their Tower Supervisor and tending psychiatrist.” He moved on to the last item he took, a dairy. “Your psychiatrist will be wanted to take a look at this and it well be returned to you soon after with safe writing utensils.”

Sansa nodded her head silently. She didn’t like the idea of someone else reading her personal diary but Mrs. Baratheon was clear that Sansa was to behave and do as she was told. She didn’t want to stay here forever, after all. Mrs. Baratheon told her that as long as she did everything she was supposed to, she would be back home for Christmas. Four months wasn’t so bad.

“Now,” Qyburn opened the first wardrobe and pulled out a premade bag, “these are approved hygiene items.” He set the bag next to her tote before moving to the next wardrobe where he pulled out a plastic wrapped thin packet. When he set it down, Sansa identified it as stark white sheets. “There is already a set on your bed; these are your other set. Perhaps, Mrs. Baratheon will bring you some different ones so you can decorate your room a bit. We encourage individuality and expression here. We are not a prison.”

Qyburn haphazardly folded Sansa’s confiscated clothing and piled up the other items and took them to the third wardrobe where he deposited them in a bin labeled “Purple-12-B.”

“These items will be sent to your room after we finish the tour. We have five towers here. You’ll be staying in the Purple Tower,” Qyburn smiled.

“What are the other four towers?” she asked as they left the small room and walked into a hallway. She could see these were offices and medical examination rooms.

“You don’t need to worry about the other towers,” Qyburn said shortly.

They reached the end of the hallway and he opened the door. It was yet another hallway running perpendicular. A small placket had been placed with directions. Listed below the arrow pointing left was: Purple Tower, Yellow Tower, Cafeteria, Library, Classrooms and Visitation. Listed below the arrow pointing right was: Green Tower, Red Tower, Blue Tower, Infirmary, and Court Yard.

Qyburn led her to the left silently although Sansa couldn’t help but look at the endless path leading right. Curiosity was something Mrs. Baratheon claimed she had too much off and she needed to keep it contained. Mrs. Baratheon said they would help her do just that here. Sansa hoped that was the case.

As they walked, they passed many doors with familiar and non-familiar labels. Sansa tried to remember them all but soon found she was getting lost. When they got to the end of the hall, they were met with two stair cases opposing each other. Each was labeled on their arch: Purple Tower and Yellow Tower.

“Now,” Qyburn had stopped and turned to face Sansa fully once more, “during your stay, it would be ill-advised for you to make mention of Mrs. Baratheon.”

Sansa blinked in confusion. “Why?”

Qyburn sighed. “No one must know where you came from. The more you keep to yourself, the better. You don’t want to be causing trouble, now do you?”

Sansa’s eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. While she didn’t understand Mr. Qyburn’s request, she wasn’t going to question it any further if it meant she could leave sooner.

“Excellent, now let’s continue.”

Qyburn led her up the Purple Tower. It was one flight of stairs until they were faced with another door. Qyburn opened it for her. This led to yet another hall although it was very different from the others. The previous hallways had been sterile and clean but this one had been decorated with paper trinkets and corkboards. It was a smaller hallway with thirteen doors in total. Each door held a dry easer board in the middle.

Qyburn turned to the first door on his left that was labeled “Purple Supervisor.” He knocked sharply and it opened soon later.

The woman who stood there was taller than any man Sansa had ever seen. She was broad shouldered with an ugly face. She looked more man than woman in many areas. She had short, chopped, blonde hair that had been combed back and off her face.

“This is going to be your Tower Supervisor, Brienne Tarth,” Qyburn introduced, “Brienne, this is Sansa Stone. I have already taken the liberty of assigning her to room twelve. Her belongings will be coming up shortly if you could please see to them being brought to her assigned room.”

Brienne Tarth stared at Sansa for a long time with unreadable bright blue eyes. It made Sansa’s skin itch and she grew uncomfortable with the way the woman stared. “Actually,” Brienne spoke with a rough voice, her eyes never leaving Sansa face, “I’d like to place her in room four.”

Qyburn blinked and shook his head slowly. “I think that would be unadvisable.”

“With all due respect-” Brienne turned to look down at Qyburn. She was nearly a foot taller than him. “-this is my assigned tower and I will be placing her in room four. Besides, room four is only half full.”

Qyburn straightened his coat and nodded his head shortly, “As you wish. I’ll go and fix the paper work. I take it you can handle the rest?” He smiled but it was not nearly as nice as it had been for Sansa.

“Of course,” Brienne nodded her head before turning back to Sansa, ignoring Qyburn. “Let me show you to your room and give you a rundown of our rules and schedules. I’m the supervisor of this tower so any questions or concerns you have can go to me. I’m here to help.”

Qyburn left the tower and Brienne led Sansa down the hallway toward the room with a purple four painted on it and a blank white board. Sansa noticed it was the only one left blank.

“Here in the Purple Tower, we room by twos. You’re roommate is currently in classes and you will meet her after dinner tonight as well as the other girls who live in this tower,” Brienne explained as she opened the door.

The room was white as the entire asylum had been. It contained to two twin beds, two white painted wooden chests at the foot of the beds, two white nightstands, two white lamps, and two white rocking chairs. One of each item was on opposite sides of the room, mirroring each other. The left side of the room was completely blank and dusty. Sansa gathered it was her side of the room. There was a window in the room as well but it was barred in and locked close. Curtains had been added to cover the bars.

The other side of the room was more personable, but not by much. The wall the bed rested against had been decorated with print out pictures.  The pictures were of muscle cars, ink drawings, and large landscapes. The sheets, while were the standard white, had been drawn on with black ink. The black ink didn’t stop at the sheets and found its way on much of the standard furniture, twist and curling in intricate designs. Few personal items had been left out on the nightstand; the only ones Sansa could see were a black notebook, a thick black sharpie, a silver ring, and a Polaroid picture.

“This is where you will sleep and spend some of your downtime. When in the Purple Tower and between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 8:00 p.m. you may visit other guests of the Purple Tower,” Brienne elaborated. “During the weekdays, you will be attending classes with the rest of the guests in your age division. Your classes will be from 9:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. After classes you may either spend your time working on homework, reading at the library, or going out to the court yard. You will also have appointments with your psychiatrist during this time. Every hour during your free time you can switch activities. The Purple Tower eats breakfast at 8:30 a.m., lunch at 12:30 p.m. and dinner at 6:30 p.m. Guests are not permitted to leave their group, classes, or the Tower unless accompanied by myself or another staff member.

“On Saturdays we have visiting hours from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. If you have visitors coming, you can see them then and only then, otherwise Saturday is a day for you to do as you please. Sunday we host religious services. Should you wish to use these serves you can tell me which you are interested in. Sunday, after the religious services, you can do as you please in the Tower or Court Yard, the other facilities are closed.

“I have a telephone in my room. Should you ever feel the need to use it, you may come see me and get permission. Lights are out at 10:00 every night and if you are caught up, out of you room, or with a light between the hours of 10:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. you will be punished accordingly.” Brienne took a deep breath. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” Sansa admitted. It was a lot to take in and she was still absorbing the fact that she would be living here and not at the Baratheon household. It had been a long day and she grew tired.

Brienne gave her a small smile. “Remember, I am here for you, Sansa. If you need anything, or just want to talk, my room is down the hall. Just give me a knock, okay?” Brienne looked at her watch. “It’s almost six now. I’ll come get you in twenty minutes for dinner.”

With that, Brienne left the room and Sansa was alone once more.

* * *

Just like she said, twenty minutes later Brienne arrived along with Sansa’s belongings. Sansa noticed that her bag had once again been opened and rifled through. She didn’t have time to unpack and was led out of the Purple Tower. They took the main hallway to a double door with Cafeteria labeled on top. Brienne opened the door and led Sansa inside.

The room was about as large as the lobby. There were about fifty to sixty large round tables scattered inside. On the far side of the room, there was a line with a few elderly women serving food.

“You’re Purple Tower mates are here as well as guests from the Yellow Tower and a few approved guests from the Green, Red, and Blue Towers. There are always four supervisors on dining duty. Now if you excuse me, I am expecting a phone call,” Brienne waved as she left the room and Sansa was by herself.

Slowly, she approached the line for food. She couldn’t find herself to get hungry but she knew Mrs. Baratheon would be upset with her if she didn’t eat.

The food was unrecognizable to Sansa’s eyes. It was blobbish and discolored. Sansa took the utensils and noticed she had been given only a spork and a napkin. It wasn’t like she needed a knife, the food looked pre-chewed.

Sansa stood awkwardly at the end of the line as she looked at the tables. Many of them were full of other guests like her. They were all talking amongst each other and eating and Sansa didn’t know how she could eventually find a spot amongst them. On the far right side of the room, a black hair girl close to her age caught her eyes and stared. She waved Sansa over with a large smirk.

Sansa went over and the girl stood. She was thin with dark black hair and eyes. She cocked her head to the side as she looked Sansa over.

“You must be new,” the girl observed with a click over her tongue. “What color are you? What’s your name?”

Sansa blinked. “Color? Do you mean the tower?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Yeah, what’s your color?”

“Purple,” Sansa admitted. When the girl’s smile grew Sansa wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“A purple, huh?” The girl wrinkled her nose. “And you’re name?”

“Sansa,” Sansa gave her a small smile.

“Sansa from purple,” the girl sang as she sat down. She patted the seat beside her. “Well, come sit Sansa from purple.”

“W-What color are you?” Sansa asked. It seemed as if the color meant more than their names.

The girl’s smile fell as she turned to her food. “Red,” she spat out.

Sansa nodded her head, not sure what the coloring system meant. “And you’re name?”

“Myranda,” her eyes flashed over at Sansa. “What are you in for?”

Sansa looked down at her food. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she didn’t want to be alone. Myranda was the first person to speak to her that was her own age, even before she arrived here at Harrenhal. She didn’t want to waste the opportunity of friendship. Sansa didn’t have many friends.  

“I have a problem.”

Myranda rolled her eyes. “We all have problems, get used to it.” Sansa fell silent again. “Anyways,” Myranda looked around the room, “have you met anyone from your color yet?”

“No,” Sansa confided. “I just got here.”

“Don’t worry,” the girl smiled darkly, “I’ve been here for three months. I’ll tell you about them,” Myranda clapped her hands together. Sansa watched as Myranda scanned the lunchroom before her eyes landed on her first target. “See the girl with the white hair? All the way in the back corner?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s a schizo,” Myranda whispered loudly, “crazy but harmless. She is always talking about the widest shit. Beside her is the insomniac,” Myranda gestured to the girl beside her with calm eyes and dark circles beneath.

Myranda continued this and Sansa grew more and more uncomfortable. She thought Myranda was going to tell her their names, not their problems. Sansa didn’t want to be reminded of the reason she had been sent here. Sansa also didn’t want to be marked ungrateful or a loser, so she remained silent and listened as Myranda continued.

* * *

When dinner was over, Sansa was grateful to be out of Myranda’s company. There was something she didn’t like about the girl and Sansa wished she had stuck to her original plan of eating alone. Brienne came and collected her and the other Purple Tower girls. There were a few that Sansa remembered from Myranda’s ramblings but there were many she didn’t.

The other girls talked amongst themselves as Brienne led them to the Tower. It was 7:30 now and she would have half an hour to get to know the other girls before she would be sent to her room for the night. Sansa was nervous about both prospects. She still hadn’t met her roommate.

As soon as they reached their hall, many of the girls dispersed. Sansa, unsure what to do, began making her way to her room. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to initiate conversation. Maybe it would be easier to start with her roommate.

“Hi,” one of the girls from room five across the hall smiled kindly at her, “you’re new, right?”

“I am,” Sansa smiled. She hoped that this would lead to more success that it had with Myranda.

“Margaery,” the girl held out her hand properly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Sansa couldn’t help but stare at the girl before her. Margaery was beautiful. She had large doe brown eyes that sparkled. Sansa would be lying if she said she wasn’t intimidated to be in her presence.

“Sansa,” Sansa introduced herself blushing.

“Are you rooming across the hall?” Margaery tilted her head to the side. Sansa noticed she had beautiful light brown hair.

“Yes,” Sansa looked back at the door. It was closed right now and Sansa could only imagine her roommate was in there.

“I see,” Margaery bit her lip curiously before smiling once more. “It’s nice to see a new face around here. Come, I’ll introduce you to my roommate.”

Sansa nodded eagerly, happy to run into a genuinely friendly face. Margaery held the door for Sansa.

Margaery and her roommate had much better luck with decorating their rooms. They were both bright and colorful, much more to Sansa’s taste. Margaery’s roommate sat on her bed and waved as Sansa entered.

“New girl, huh?” the red head clicked her tongue playfully. “My name is Ros.”

“I’m Sansa,” Sansa waved.

“Have you made any friends yet?” Ros raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know about that,” Sansa looked down. She’d rather not consider Myranda a friend. “I met Myranda from the Red Tower though.”

Ros raised both eyebrows at this and shared a look with Margaery. “Myranda, huh? Did she eat you alive?”

“Ros,” Margaery reprimanded lightly. “Ignore her; she and Myranda don’t get along.”

“No one does,” Ros leaned across her bed. “That’s why she is in red, not purple.”

“What do the colors mean?” Sansa asked. She was under the strong impression they meant something. Margaery and Ros shared a look once more.

“They mean a couple of things,” Margaery smiled awkwardly. She was uncomfortable with explaining it. “For example, we are in purple because we are girls.”

“And we are a manageable crazy,” Ros blurted out.

Sansa’s eyes widened and Margaery scowled at Ros. “What she means is that the violent types are put into red while the non-violent are put into purple.”

“Oh,” Sansa swallowed. “What about the other colors?”

“Yellow and blue are for the boys,” Ros winked. “Blue for violent and yellow for non.”

“What about green?” Sansa asked, remembering the fifth and final tower.

“Mix gendered,” Ros shrugged.

“Those are for the severe cases,” Margaery explained calmly. “A lot of the drug users and suicidal ones are put in there and are on constant watch.”

“The only good thing about being green is you get your own room, no offense Marge,” Ros grinned.

“None taken,” Margaery rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about the colors, the only ones who ever do are the ones who wish they can change.”

“And even when Hell freezes over Myranda will still be red,” Ros cackled.

“Alright girls, off to bed!” Brienne’s voice echoed through the hallway.

“It was nice meeting you,” Sansa said quickly as she headed for the door.

“Same,” Ros smiled. “Next meal you can sit with us and Margaery’s gay brother.”

Margaery rolled her eyes as she walked Sansa to the door. “Again, ignore her, but the offer does still stand.” Margaery looked across the hallway to Sansa’s room. “Good luck with your roommate.”

Sansa blinked, “Why?”

Margaery toyed with her lip again. “She kind of sticks to herself.”

Nodding her head and waving, Sansa walked across the hallway to her room. She heard Margaery close her door just as she opened her own. Sansa glanced back to see the white board had a pretty drawing of a rose with deadly thorns on it. Ros and Margaery had each signed their names.

Her room was dark, the lights off already. Sansa carefully entered and closed the door behind her. Her belongings lying where she left them. Looking on the other side of the room, Sansa could see a figure curled up in the bed, covers thrown over her body.

“Hello?” Sansa whispered quietly. If her roommate was sleeping, she didn’t want to wake her. Sansa waited but nothing happened. Perhaps she was already asleep or maybe she was just ignoring Sansa. She hoped it was the former.

Sansa turned to her side of the room and went through her things. She put her few belongings away in the chest at the foot of her bed. Not having much else to do, Sansa changed into her pajamas and curled under the sheets. They were scratchy and stiff but Sansa ignored it. She would just have to get used to it and maybe Mrs. Baratheon would send her some sheets when she came to visit.

Sansa, feeling exhausted from the long day, felt her eyes flutter shut as she went to sleep.

* * *

There was a shuffling in her room. Sansa had awoken to movement coming from the other side of the room. Her first thought was that her mysterious roommate was having a nightmare and she should just ignore it.

She tried to go back to sleep but the shuffling continued. It was then that Sansa heard their door open. She sat up quickly just in time to see it close. Sansa glanced to the other side of the room to see her roommate’s bed bare and empty.


	2. Paranoia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that depictions here are not accurate representations of mental disorders. Thank you.

Sansa barely slept the rest of the night. She had spent the majority of it waiting for her roommate to return, both for another chance at a glimpse of her and also to make sure she actually came back.

At first Sansa thought she must have just needed to use the restroom. None of the rooms that she had seen thus far had bathrooms in them. Their tower bathroom was at the end of the hall. It was probably a health or security issue but as hours went by, her roommate never returned. Then Sansa began to panic, dark thoughts swimming in her head.

Where could she have gone? What if her roommate had tried to escape? What if she was using Sansa arrival as a means to escape? A one in, one out situation? What if Mrs. Baratheon found out and kept Sansa here forever? What if this all somehow led back to Sansa?

At some point Sansa passed out from sheer exhaustion. It had been a long day and sleep had been settling over her. Her eyelids grew impossibly heavy and she fell unconscious. She roommate still hadn’t shown up.

When she woke up again, she glanced across the room hurriedly and somewhere in that time period of her sleeping her roommate had returned and covered herself beneath the covers again. It freaked Sansa out to see her roommate back but even more so that she honestly didn’t know if it was her roommate. She had never seen her face and she still couldn’t.

There was no clock in their room so Sansa didn't know how long her roommate had been gone for or when she had returned. Judging by the day light beginning to come through the window, it must have been pretty early in the morning. Her roommate had been gone a good portion of the night then.

After her roommate had returned and Sansa was up, Sansa hurried herself in dressing. It would be her first day of classes and she wanted to make a good impression on her peers. She tried to find her better clothing of the ones that remained. She wished that she had been able to bring one of her dresses she had made but Mrs. Baratheon told her dresses weren’t allowed here at Harrenhal. Sansa ended up giving them to Mrs. Baratheon’s daughter. She wondered if Myrcella liked them as much as Sansa did. She had made them herself.

Sansa dressed slowly. She was anxious to see who her roommate would be and had been since she arrived. She was frustrated that she hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of her. She was finally going to be able to. There was no way her roommate would be able to avoid her in the morning. She would have to get up at some point and dress and Sansa would see her then.

When Sansa finished dressing she sat on her bed and waited for her roommate to wake. There wasn’t much for Sansa to do during that time so she simply studied the pictures on her roommate’s wall.

They were all printed from a black and white printer. Some of the photos were landscapes of northern forests and snow. Some of these northern landscapes had animals in them, primarily wolves and deer. Some of the other pictures were of muscle cars from the seventies and eighties. The last set of pictures was of intricate ink designs. Sansa couldn’t tell if they were drawn by her roommate or if they were just pictures, but judging by the black ink drawings all over her roommate’s furniture, she guessed that her roommate did it.

At some point, Brienne made her way down the hall, knocking on each door to wake up the other girls. When she got to Sansa's, she watched the bundle on the bed with hawk-like vigilance. The girl beneath the covers stirred and slowly peeled back the blankets. Sansa watched anxiously as the girl finally revealed herself.

The girl was younger than Sansa by a few years.  Perhaps three or four. Her hair was dark as were her eyes which were a steely grey. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, showing evidence of her mysterious late night wanderings. Sansa watched as the girl crawled from the bed. She was short and thin. A tiny little thing.

Her roommate barely paid any notice to Sansa as she got dressed for the day. It was like she didn’t even see Sansa. Sansa was beginning to think maybe that was the reason why the girl had been admitted into the facility. Maybe it was just her disorder and that was the reason she was here.

Sansa still couldn’t wrap her mind around how her roommate could leave, come back, and nobody even noticed. Was this a habit? How long has this been going on? Where did she go? What did she do? Would this somehow affect Sansa? Sansa was most nervous about the answer to that last one.

Sansa watched the girl carefully as she dressed. The girl wore plain clothing. The colors were limited to blacks, browns, and greys. None of the clothing Sansa could see was anything special. Just t-shirts and pants, hand-me-down like.

Sansa backlogged this information. She was still trying to figure out what type of person her roommate was. After all, they would be sharing a room for the duration of Sansa’s hopefully short stay. They should get to know each other though, even if her roommate didn’t seem keen on acknowledging Sansa’s presence. It was irksome, to say the least, but Sansa didn’t want to push the issue, nothing good ever came from doing that.

Just as quickly as the girl had snuck in and out of their room, the girl was done dressing and brushing her hair without so much as a nod to Sansa. She just slipped out of the room, closing the door silently behind her. She was quick and silent, either a skill she obtained from her late night travels or a skill that aided her in doing so.

Sansa, not knowing what else to do, followed her out.

Unlike their room, the hallway of the tower was buzzing with activity. Many of the girls were talking amongst each other. Sansa tried to find her roommate but she seemed to have disappeared once again. Luckily for Sansa, she spotted Margaery and Ros. Their door was open and the two were finished up their dressing; Margaery was brushing her hair and Ros was putting on her shoes. Sansa noticed Ros’ shoes used to have laces but they had been removed and made into slip-ons.

Margaery noticed Sansa lingering by the doorway of her room and smiled widely at her, “Sansa, good morning! How was your first night?”

Ros cackled to herself. “Probably _really_ exciting,” Ros sneered.

“It was really quiet,” Sansa replied truthfully as she crossed the threshold of their room.

“Go figure,” Ros snorted. “I’ve never once heard that girl talk.”

“That’s not true,” Margaery rolled her eyes at Ros. “I see her talk to a few of the boys from yellow. Just because she doesn’t talk to you doesn’t mean she doesn’t talk at all.”

“What’s her name?” Sansa asked. She wanted to be able to refer to the girl by her name rather than her gender. It would make things easier.

Margaery and Ros shared a look.

“I’m not sure,” Ros shrugged. “She isn’t in my class group, too young. Like I said, she has never spoken a word in this tower.”

“I can’t say I know either,” Margaery said disappointedly. “She really does just stick to herself for the most part.”

“Alright ladies,” Brienne called down the hallway. Ros and Margaery led Sansa out of their room to the hallway that was now flooded with other girls from their tower. Most of them waved kindly to Sansa while other didn’t pay her much attention. “Let’s go to breakfast. Sansa, if you could come here for a moment,” Brienne waved Sansa over.

The other girls parted so she could walk through. Sansa sent Margaery and Ros a short wave as she approached Brienne.

“How was your first night?” Brienne asked quietly. “Were there any issues?”

Sansa was tempted to tell Brienne the truth, that her roommate had slipped out in the night but she didn’t. She had learned from Mrs. Baratheon that telling the truth only ever got you so far and, more times than not, in trouble. Sansa didn’t want to make the girl hate her; she wanted to make friends not enemies. She would keep the secret for now and hope that the girl just didn’t do it again.

“It was fine,” Sansa said.

Brienne smiled kindly. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad to see you’ve made some friends. They are good girls, Margaery and Ros.”

Sansa felt as if that statement meant more than what Brienne was saying. The way Brienne looked at Sansa, it felt as if Brienne knew her but Sansa had never met the woman before. It was puzzling. Sansa wanted to say she looked familiar as well, but couldn’t think as to why.

Regardless, Sansa joined Margaery and Ros as they walked down to the cafeteria together. Sansa still didn’t see a sign of her roommate. She was so small she could probably hide amongst the taller girls and Sansa wouldn’t have been the wiser.

Ros dominated the conversation as they walked down the stairs. She was telling Margaery and Sansa about a boy from Tower Blue that was “to die for.” Sansa only chimed in to ask about his color warning. Ros shrugged it off saying, “Just because he’s a violent lunatic, doesn’t mean he isn’t cute. It’s just window shopping.”

Ros led the way though the line with Sansa following and Margaery close behind. Sansa was idly worried about Myranda. She didn’t want to associate with the girl again. After what she knew about Myranda and Ros’ opinion on her, Sansa was fearful of the girl.

Sansa saw her from across the cafeteria again but Myranda barely made any eye contact with Sansa. She simply looked between Sansa, Ros, and Margaery before turning back to a boy with dark hair and chilling ice eyes across from her.

“Don’t worry too much about Myranda. She knows to back off,” Ros whispered slyly to Sansa as she put a protective arm around her shoulders. “Colors usually stick together, there is a reason we room like that. Besides,” Ros’ attention shifted to the boy across from Myranda, “it looks like her boy-toy from blue is back on communal dining.”

“Blue?” Sansa squeaked. She remembered from yesterday what Ros and Margaery had explained to her about the violent vs. non-violent color guests. Red and Blue were both the violent ones. Sansa wondered if they should even be sitting together.

Ros didn’t say anything further on the subject. From what Sansa could gather from the silence, Myranda and the boy across from her were bad news. Sansa would do what her instincts told her and stay away from the pair.

After receiving similar gruel from yesterday, Margaery led the way to a table. Sansa noticed that the table was already occupied by a guy a few years older than she. Margaery sat down across from him and patted the space next to her for Sansa. Ros sat beside the guy.

The guy at the table looked over at Sansa with clouded golden eyes. His mouth hung open in surprised, like her presence was unexpectedly familiar. Margaery coughed awkwardly as Sansa could feel her shift in her seat. Even when Margaery tried to gather the boy’s attention slyly, it didn’t work. His eyes were still trained on Sansa’s face. First Brienne, and now this guy. Sansa was beginning to think something was wrong with her.

“ _Loras_ , this is Sansa,” Margaery introduced. “Sansa, Loras here in my older brother.”

Sansa sent Loras a warm smile in hopes he would stop staring at her like that. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Loras swallowed and nodded his head, smiling as well now. “It’s nice to meet you. I take it you are new?”

“She came yesterday,” Ros explained. “Probably while you were sucking co-”

“Enough,” Margaery reprimanded. She gave Ros a warning look and Sansa was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

Ros and Loras both rolled their eyes, seemingly unaffected by the comment made or Margaery’s disapproval. Loras rested his elbows on the table and leaned across to Sansa. His eyes were searching her face for something again. Margaery scoffed silently beside her.

“So, Sansa,” Loras spoke calmly, “what brings you to Harrenhal?”

It was a question Sansa knew she would end up being asked, but she still uncomfortable with answering it. Margaery swiftly came to her defense.

“Loras, that’s rude,” Margaery swatted at him from across the table. Loras barely even registered it.

“I’m just curious,” Loras clicked his tongue loudly. “I’m just trying to open up a conversation.”

“Well, ask her something else if that’s what you want,” Margaery shot back, sending Sansa an apologetic look. Ros was watching the whole thing in silence, eyes drifting curiously between Loras and Sansa.

“Fine, what about your family?” His eyes continued searching hers but Sansa wasn’t sure for what.

“I don’t really have one,” she murmured. It was true. She never met her mother or father. The closest thing she had to a mother was Mrs. Baratheon, but she wasn’t so supposed to mention her by name and Mrs. Baratheon had a rule about Sansa referring to her as ‘mom’.

Loras seemed surprised by this. “You don’t?”

Sansa looked down. “I was adopted.”

“Oh,” Margaery whispered softly, putting her hand on Sansa’s back. Sansa blushed at the contact.

“What were your adopted parents like?” Loras fired away.

“They are wonderful,” Sansa smiled like she knew she was supposed to when talking about her family.

Loras narrowed his eyes a fraction. “What’s their surname?”

Sansa swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure why Loras wanted to know this information but she wasn’t supposed to mention the Baratheons by name on the account of Qyburn, but Sansa wasn’t ready to cause issues with new people. Besides, Margaery and Ros were nice. If they were hanging out with Loras, he was bound to be nice too. What could be the harm?

“B-Baratheon.” Qyburn had only specified not to mention Mrs. Baratheon, not the rest of them.

Loras stared at Sansa for a long time. “Baratheon?”

“Yes? Do you know the name?” Sansa asked curiously and fearful. Maybe that’s why Qyburn didn’t want her to mention the name. Qyburn might have been trying to protect Sansa from the association.

Loras either didn’t hear Sansa’s question or ignored it and fired off. “What was Mr. Baratheon like? What did he look like? Young, old? Fat, thin?”

“Ew, do you have a dad-kink?” Ros sneered, her eyes serious though and focused intently on Loras.

Sansa flushed at the question. Mr. Baratheon and she hardly ever interacted. He was blurry man with a thick beard and a balding head. “He is on the heavier side.”

Loras nodded, absorbing the information. “What about you’re uncles? Did you have any uncles?” Loras asked before throwing in, “Or aunts?” but it was half-hearted.

“I have four,” Sansa thought back to them all. “Two from each side.”

“Tell me about them,” Loras insisted, leaning even more over the table.

“Loras,” Margaery hissed with flashing eyes at him but he didn’t back down or even seem to hear her. His attention was solely on Sansa.

“I only ever really saw Mr. Jaime,” Sansa swallowed nervously. She couldn’t understand why Loras was acting like this.

“What about the Baratheon side?” Loras narrowed.

It didn’t even hit Sansa as to why Loras knew Jaime was on the Lannister side and not the Baratheon side. “I don’t know them well at all. Mr. Baratheon doesn’t get on well with them, from what I know,” Sansa tried to recall. She could feel the pressure from Loras to respond quickly and timely.

“Loras,” Margaery stood up suddenly, a dark look crossing her face. “Can we talk for a moment? In _private_?”

“One moment,” he snarled at his sister, but as he did he seemed to realize his mistake. He looked up at her with frustration before sighing and standing up as well. Sansa watched confused as the two walked away. Ros was also watching wide eyed before turning back to her food.

“Shit, Loras has cracked again.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sansa asked over the table in a faint, fearful voice.

Ros looked around. “Don’t tell Marge I told you, she’ll get pissed.”

Sansa nodded her head, leaning closer. “I won’t say a word.”

“They both came here pretty young, like seven and nine years old. Both of them for extreme anxiety disorders. Margaery would have panic attacks and meltdowns all the time and sometimes stop breathing because of it, but Loras never showed any of the signs and it was weird. Anxiety is an emotional thing but Loras never showed a single attribute of it.” Ros looked over her shoulder to see Margaery whispering fiercely at Loras who looked frustrated and growing angrier. “They thought maybe he was cured or his levels weren’t that bad to need help from here and they retested him for release. Well, it turns out he was fine with anxiety but he has PPD.”

“What’s that?” Sansa frowned at the acronym.

“Paranoid Personality Disorder,” Ros said knowingly. “Don’t worry, you get to learn all sorts of acronyms while here. Anyways, he gets like this every now and then, hounding people on weird details and not letting up. I don’t really get it, but Margaery says he has always been like that. It’s a little freaky.”

“Oh,” Sansa said. It kind of made sense then. She almost felt bad for him. What a world it was like to live in paranoia over things that weren’t threatening.

“Yeah,” Ros leaned back. “Apparently when they were little, Loras would get so paranoid about little things that would cause Margaery to have meltdowns. A few years ago Brienne tried separating them because they kind of eat each other alive, but it only made them worse. Loras got put in red for half a year because of it. He ended up beating his roommate unconscious.”

Sansa swallowed hard. She hadn’t known any of that and she wouldn’t have just by looking at them. Sure, Loras was kind of weird but he didn’t seem like the violent type. Then again, the way he cornered her on those questions…

“Shit, they are coming back,” Ros looked back to see the brother and sister heading their way. “Remember, I didn’t tell you anything, got it?”

“Got it,” Sansa nodded her head quickly as Margaery resumed her seat.

Silence enveloped the table like a thick fog. Sansa looked at Ros for help but she seemed oblivious to it. That or she was really good at ignoring it.

“Sorry,” Loras murmured after a while. Sansa looked over at him but his eyes were trained on what was supposed to be scrambled eggs. “I got a little intense back there.”

“Its fine,” Sansa said quickly. She knew he didn’t mean it. Everything was fine. There had to be no problems so Sansa could just go home.

Even though the apology was out there, the heavy atmosphere lingered. No one spoke for the rest of the meal and Sansa nearly cried for joy when Brienne came and collected them for classes.

* * *

 

 

Classes, it turned out, were not nearly as bad as they had been outside of Harrenhal. Sansa had hated school, she always had, but here at Harrenhal classes weren’t so bad. Maybe it was because the classes were only of six people, all of which were logged onto a computer far away from each other. But that wasn’t the point.

Since Harrenhal Asylum wasn’t a school, they taught classes via online programs purchased for the specific grades of their guests. Sansa’s group was all in their ‘senior level’ and would be graduating soon. She was thrilled by this and was even more pleased that it would all be done by a computer than by a traditional classroom setting.

Part of the reason Mrs. Baratheon had sent Sansa here was because of her catatonic reaction to the public school system. Mrs. Baratheon had enrolled Sansa in it in hopes of raising her self-esteem. It ended up having almost the opposite effect and Sansa fell into a depression.

Between the pressures of being at school, the pressure of her peers and bulling, and the pressure of pleasing the Baratheons, Sansa ended up not coping well and Mrs. Baratheon decided that they needed to institutionalize her. She didn’t want Sansa to affect her birth children, which was understandable. That’s why Mrs. Baratheon sent Sansa to a public school and her own children to a private school. Sansa needed exposure to social climates while her children needed prestige and structure. She had explained it all to Sansa when she dropped her off at the bus stop on the first day of school before driving her own children to school.

Sansa preferred the computer classroom than the traditional. Her peers in the classroom with her didn’t seem to enjoy it. There were five other people sitting at computers in the small room that was being monitored by a stern older woman with tiny eyes.

Sansa recognized two of the girls from the Purple Tower. One was a brown haired girl with a lopsided grin. She seemed nice enough; Sansa just hadn’t spoken to her yet. The other was a girl well into a pregnancy. Sansa wondered how it could happen in the asylum but perhaps she hadn’t been a guest here very long. The rest she didn’t know. They were all male meaning they were from either the Yellow or the Blue Tower. Sansa hadn’t met anyone from either, except for Loras but he was graduated and taking university level classes, as Margaery had explained on their walk to the classrooms.

Sansa hated to admit it, but she was kind of thankful that lunch was served in the classroom. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Margaery, Ros, or Loras’ company, but after the scene that was made at breakfast, Sansa wanted to give it some space. It wasn’t that she was scared of Loras; she just didn’t want to cause any further problems.

Two o’clock came around and Sansa was instructed to end her classes for the day. If she remembered correctly from Brienne, she now had time to herself. Sansa wasn’t sure what she would do with that time. She barely knew how to get to her tower let alone the rest of the facility. If only Margaery or Ros were close by to assist here. She knew in time she would learn, but she also hoped that she never got used to it here. She hoped that was would be released before she got used to it. Before Christmas.

As she left the classroom, she noticed Brienne waiting beside the door.

“Sansa,” Brienne pushed off the wall, “I have your schedule here.” She passed Sansa a piece of paper that held an itinerary of her classes as well as scheduled meetings with her assigned psychiatrist. “As you can see, you have an appointment today in fifteen minutes. I came to show you how to get there.”

Sansa nodded her head in silent thanks as she followed Brienne down the hall. As they walked, Sansa studied the schedule. It looked like she would be meeting with her psychiatrist three times a week. She wondered if it would be similar to the psychiatrists that Mrs. Baratheon had sent her to previously.

Brienne stopped at a sterile white door with the words “Dr. Baelish” written in sharp black ink. The name rung a cord in Sansa but she hadn’t the faintest idea why.

Brienne nodded her head for Sansa to enter, taking a step back. She made it clear she would not be coming with to the session. Sansa wasn’t sure if that made her more or less comfortable with being alone with the psychiatrist. She never really liked their mind games.

She walked in and the first thing she noticed was a bird; a small, blue bird in a cage in the corner. The tall bird cage stood beside a large elegant wooden desk which a man sat behind.

He was a thin man with a thin face. His most noticeable feature wasn’t his small sharp beard or his greying hair, but his sharp grey eyes. It felt as if they could stab Sansa with one hard glance.

However, when his eyes landed on her, they softened. He stood up quickly, combing his eyes over her in an act of disbelief.  

“Sansa,” the man gasped with much warmth considering she had never met the man before. His eyes were fixed on her, much like Brienne and Loras’ had when she first met them. Sansa was beginning to worry it meant something deeper.

“Hello, Dr. Baelish,” Sansa held out a shaky hand to the man before her to be polite.

Dr. Baelish looked at the hand in marvel. Slowly, he reached out and wrapped his long narrowed fingers around her hand like vines.

“Petyr,” he murmured, looked up at her carefully. “Please call me Petyr.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter and begin formulating ideas on any of it. Sansa's roommate is pretty guessable, but there will be a for sure naming in the next chapter or so. 
> 
> Next chapter will continue with Sansa's first session with Baelish.   
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	3. Petyr

“Please,” Dr. Baelish released Sansa hand and gestured to the large blue velvet seat in front of his desk, “sit. We have much to discuss, but first, I’d like to get to know you, Sansa. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other and this should be a friendship.”

Sansa sunk into the seat and felt it begin to swallow her. She wished it would just finish the task and take her far away from here. She never fared well with psychiatrists and she wasn’t sure she felt entirely safe with Dr. Baelish. There was something curling in her stomach that was telling her to be cautious. Perhaps it was his eyes that never left her face.

Sansa sat quietly before Dr. Baelish. She couldn't shake the feeling he gave her, one of previous meetings that didn't end right. She couldn't figure out why. This was the first time they had met.

"Go on," he urged eagerly, his voice in a gentle hush. "This is a safe place."

Sansa didn't feel that sentiment. "What would you like me to say?" Usually her past psychiatrists would ask her questions that she would then answer as they wanted her to. Dr. Baelish seemed more interested in hosting an actual conversation. It unnerved her. What was she supposed to say?

"Why don't you tell me why you think you are here," Dr. Baelish instructed.

"Well," Sansa sat tall in her chair, "I have a problem and I'm here to fix it," Sansa recited the words Mrs. Baratheon had practiced with her.

Dr. Baelish looked amused by her response. Sansa wasn't sure why.

"And what do you believe your problem is?"

Sansa looked at her knees. That depended on who you asked. If you asked Mr. Baratheon, Sansa was attention seeking and just didn't know better. If you asked Joffrey, Sansa's adopted family's oldest son, he would say Sansa brought it on herself and her real problem was her- something that couldn’t be fixed. Mrs. Baratheon said Sansa couldn't help it and that her problem stemmed from a horrible beginning and she needed to learn how to control herself. Sansa knew though that none of these answers were the ones Dr. Baelish wanted.

"I don't know," she admitted weakly. She had done this same routine with past psychiatrists, and this was the time where they would tell her the problem: depression, anxiety, mental hysteria, the list was endless. She had heard them all.

"I see," Dr. Baelish made note of this in a purple folder, undoubtedly Sansa's.  "Now, why don't you tell me about your adjustment here? I know you've only been here a day, but what are your first impressions?"

Sansa was thrown for a loop. Where was the accusation? Where was the layout of her problems? Where were the instructions on pills to take to make it all go away?

"What about my problem?" Sansa couldn't stop herself from asking.

Dr. Baelish set his pen down. "You are more than your problem, Sansa, much more. We are just getting to know each other; we can talk about whatever you want. I'm just providing conversation points."

"Oh," Sansa swallowed. This was...different. Not necessarily bad, not necessarily good. Just different. "It's not bad here," she whispered.

"It's not?" Dr. Baelish cocked his head to the side. "Why do you think that?"

Sansa was again thrown by the question. Wasn't his job to help Sansa acclimate to the facility? He made it almost sound like she wasn't meant to enjoy it here. It was puzzling and worrying. Dr. Baelish was puzzling and worrying.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," Sansa explained.

"You've made friends," Dr. Baelish connected the dots. "May I ask who?"

"Margaery and Ros from purple."

Dr. Baelish did a funny thing at the mention of Ros. His face remained painfully still but his eyes darkened. Perhaps Ros was also one of his guests that he met with. Maybe there was a history there.

"I see," he murmured. "And you're roommate?"

"We haven't spoken," Sansa blushed. She was embarrassed to even admit that she didn't know her name. It felt like something Sansa should know.

Dr. Baelish didn't linger in the question and pushed forward. He was going fast through this information, almost like he was disinterested and speeding up to a part he wanted. It was like he was just going through the motions without any real intention. Sansa was confused.

"Have you met any of the other guests here?"

"Margaery's brother, Loras, from yellow," she mentioned. She hesitated with the mention of Myranda. "And, Myranda from red." She wasn't sure if she should have mentioned the color. From what she had gathered from the other guests, color was important but she wasn’t sure that translated with the professionals here.

"Loras Tyrell," Dr. Baelish used his full name, ignoring the mention of Myranda, "how did that go?"

_Tyrell_. That was Margaery and Loras' last name. No one seemed to be keen of using them and now that she knew, it felt like a deeply guarded secret just like their conditions that Ros has told her in confidence. It felt uncomfortable holding this knowledge of the two siblings. It wasn’t information they had shared with her, yet she knew it. It was almost a breach of privacy.

"Fine," Sansa decided. She didn't want to let Dr. Baelish know if Loras' outburst and have that somehow lead back to her. There was no harm done. "He is nice."

"And cute, yes?" Dr. Baelish raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

Sansa flushed bright red. "I suppose so." But wasn't it inappropriate to start relations with other guests? Sansa imagined that would be the case. They barely let them touch, as far as Sansa knew.

"Tell me, Sansa," Dr. Baelish rested his arms flat on the desk, "what were your relationships like before coming here?"

"With boys?" Sansa asked nervously, toying with her lip.

"Or girls, I'm not here to judge."

Fear struck deep in Sansa. Did Dr. Baelish know of her attraction to the fairer sex? It had been something Sansa had only mentioned once and Mrs. Baratheon had shut her down immediately. Sansa never mentioned it again and she certainly wouldn’t mention it now. She knew she liked girls more than boys, but it didn’t mean it was something she was open to discussing.

Sansa suddenly remembered that Dr. Baelish had access to her diary. Maybe he had been able to read between the lines in her nonsensical poems and recorded dreams.

“I haven’t with either,” Sansa whispered quietly in hopes Dr. Baelish got the hint and let Sansa be.

"We don’t have to discuss this if you aren't comfortable," Dr. Baelish interjected. "As I said, we can talk about anything you would like to. What about your family?"

Sansa while not comfortable with that topic either greatly preferred it to the other topics brought up thus far. Again, she was hesitant about bring up Mrs. Baratheon, Qyburn’s warning and Loras’ previous reaction still ringing in her ears.

"I don't know my birth family, but my adopted family is wonderful," Sansa said with perfect practice, smile and everything.

"Tell me about your adopted family," Dr. Baelish encouraged. Dr. Baelish looked down in his folder. “The Baratheons correct?”

Sansa thought she would have been relieved in hearing that Dr. Baelish knew where she came from, but she wasn’t. That meant Mrs. Baratheon could be in contact with him and the room wasn’t truly a safe room. At the end of the day, Mrs. Baratheon was paying for Sansa’s stay here, she shouldn’t speak ill of the woman trying to aid her mental health.

"Well, Mrs. Baratheon is wonderful. She has given me so many great opportunities. I'm indebted to her."

"She took on the mother role for you, correct?"

"She is the only mother I've ever known," Sansa looked at her knees with a frown. "Sometimes I wonder what my real mother is like," she whispered quietly, almost nonverbal.

Dr. Baelish swallowed audibly. "What would you have imagined your birth mother to be like?"

Sansa had pictured it many times, mostly through her dreams. Her mother would have deep red hair and river blue eyes. She would be kind, loving, and protective. She always pictured her mother in long flowing dresses. She had told Mrs. Baratheon this once, but Mrs. Baratheon soon told her the truth. Even though it was vastly different than the story Mrs. Baratheon told, Sansa still dreamed of her ideal mother. Sure, even in her head she wasn't perfect, but she was still the mother wanted.

However, to answer Dr. Baelish's question, Sansa went with the response that Mrs. Baratheon would approve of.

"All I know is what she is,” Sansa muttered, not meeting Dr. Baelish’s eyes. “She was a drug user who is dead now and that’s all there is too it.”

Dr. Baelish didn’t speak for a long time. When Sansa looked up, Dr. Baelish’s eyes were focused on the hardwood of his desk. “Dead, you say?”

“That’s what Mrs. Baratheon told me.”

“I see,” Dr. Baelish coughed loudly. “Well, I think we covered quite a bit for today, don’t you think?” Sansa remained silent and Dr. Baelish continued. “I was given your journal yesterday and have skimmed through it. You have eloquent writing, I hope you know.”

Sansa blushed embarrassed by his praise and the fact he was snooping through her personal stuff. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’m going to give this back to you and I’d like you to keep writing. Now, I will not look into it again and it is yours to do with as you please.” Dr. Baelish passed back her journal along with a soft tip pen. “I do encourage you to keep writing. It’ll do wonders for you.”

“Okay,” Sansa reclaimed her diary.

“Lastly,” Dr. Baelish stood up carefully and walked around his desk, “I want you do to a little homework assignment for me.” Sansa nodded her head and he continued. “I want you to section off a piece of your diary to write down your dreams. You mentioned them a few times in your diary and I want you to keep doing so. When we have your sessions, we do not have to discuss them unless you want to, but I would still like you to think on them. Dreams have a funny way of unveiling hidden truths.”

“Of course, Dr. Baelish,” Sansa flushed. She was embarrassed by the whole discussion, especially the fact that Dr. Baelish had read her diary and read her dreams. She was too old to be dreaming of queens and kings, magical dragons and wolves, castles and frozen wastelands.

“Please,” Dr. Baelish put his hand on Sansa’s shoulder as she stood up, “call me Petyr. I’m your friend.”

Sansa simply smiled and nodded her head in hopes of being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Dr. Baelish opened the door for Sansa and let her step through. Sansa could see Brienne waiting calmly beside the door. Sansa watched as Brienne and Dr. Baelish made eye contact. Brienne gave a curt nod while Dr. Baelish threw her a ghost of a smile. They didn’t seem like they were on the best of terms. Now that Sansa thought of it, Qyburn didn’t seem that fond of Brienne either.

Dr. Baelish closed his door and Sansa looked at Brienne for insight.

“Well, it is closing in on four o’clock, so you can feel free to explore some of the other parts of Harrenhal or if you wish you can go back to your room.”

Sansa wondered if it was inappropriate to ask where Margaery and Ros were. She enjoyed their company and would like to talk to them more, but she didn’t want to cause any problems so she bit back the question. “Can I go back to my room?”

“Sure,” Brienne led the way. “If you don’t mind me asking, how was your session?”

“Fine,” Sansa looked at the ground as they walked side by side.

“Dr. Baelish is…an acquired taste,” Brienne wrinkled her nose at it. “Just remember, he isn’t allowed to share anything that you talk about with him. It’s completely private. Don’t be afraid to open up to him.” Brienne paused her step for a moment. “If you still don’t feel comfortable with talking to him, you can always talk with me.”

Sansa nodded her head quickly. She appreciated Brienne’s initiative and understanding for her situation. Out of the entire faculty she had met, she liked Brienne the best. Sansa hadn’t seen Qyburn since yesterday but that was fine with her. She wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked at her and Sansa wasn’t ready for him to report back to Mrs. Baratheon.

They reach the purple tower in less time than Sansa thought. Her sense of direction had been completely warped since she had been here. She couldn’t keep track of where everything was and how far they were from each other.

Brienne left Sansa at the tower entrance, entering her own room at this time. Sansa, alone once more, began walking down the hall. There were a few girls in the tower during this time. One of them was the white haired girl that Myranda had pointed out to her yesterday. She was sitting against the door to room ten with another girl. They were whispering to each other and whatever they were discussing seemed quite serious.

Sansa wished she had the courage to go and talk to them, perhaps make some other friends, but Myranda’s stupid warnings were ring in her ears, _“crazy but harmless”_ and _“thoughtless zombie.”_ Sansa hated that those thoughts kept coming to mind, but she couldn’t silence them. Embarrassed, ashamed, and simply disheartened by the turn of her day, Sansa went into her room.

* * *

An interesting little note Sansa found out about her room was that the ledge on the window was just wide enough for her to sit on. From the window, she could see a vast amount of the grounds of Harrenhal, including the forest that gated the back of the castle. From her perch on the window, she could see the grounds and the other guests running in the grassy meadows that were surrounded by a high wire electric fence. If she ignored the wrought iron bars, it was almost like she was in the castles from her dreams instead of the prison of her reality.

Sansa had spent the rest of the day watching the grounds. It was a mindless activity that helped her forget the past couple of days. Thoughts of Dr. Baelish, Mrs. Baratheon, Mrs. Tarth, Harrenhal all faded away as her eyes swept the grounds.

Curiously, she noticed a small group of guests on the far corner of the gated field away from the other guests. It was too far for her to see the details of who was there but she counted three people hunched by the ground.

The couple of hours that Sansa spent watching the ground, the little group barely moved. Her eyes kept going back to them every now and then and she couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing in that corner of the grounds.

When the sun began to set, only then did the group stand up and move. Out of the three, one of them was quite tall while the other two were smaller, one of them almost twice as small as the tall one. As they came closer to Harrenhal, Sansa’s eyes widened in recognition.

One of the members of the trio was her unnamed roommate. She stood between two of the boys, one of them squat and stout while the other was tall and built. Sansa also recognized the tall one from her classes earlier that day. Ros’ explanation of how her roommate only hung out with boys from yellow came ringing back.

Sansa continued to watch the trio. Her roommate was actually talking, although Sansa had no way of knowing what was being said. The fact that she was speaking was enough for Sansa to finally talk to her tonight. She at least needed a name, if not a discussion about last night and her roommate’s disappearance.

A knock sounded at her door and when Sansa answered it Margaery stood there, hands tangled in front of her.

“It’s dinner time, are you ready?”

* * *

The walk down to the dining hall was awkward and quiet. Neither she nor Margaery spoke the whole way, the events of this morning still numbing. It wasn’t until they were outside the hall did Margaery stop, holding Sansa’s elbow.

“I just want to apologize again for this morning with Loras and-”

“It’s honestly fine,” Sansa smiled brightly. She just wanted the events of that day behind them.

“It’s just,” Margaery toyed with her lip, “I don’t think Loras is quite over it yet.”

Sansa swallowed. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I tried talking with him this afternoon and he says he is fine, but I know my brother and I think he is still thinking about it and I just don’t know why.”

“It’s okay,” Sansa smiled. “If he wants to ask questions, I don’t mind-”

“I do, though.” Margaery shrugged and combed her fingers through her pretty hair. “It’s not healthy for him.”

“I understand,” Sansa tittered on her heels, not sure what to do next. She liked Margaery, really liked her company and friendship, but she didn’t want to cause any problems with her brother.

“I guess I just wanted to give you a bit of a warning,” Margaery murmured. “We all can be a little high wired here.”

Together, the two walked into the cafeteria. Ros and Loras were already seated at the table from this morning. Sansa and Margaery quickly got their food before joining them. Loras didn’t say a word or even look at Sansa. Ros rolled her eyes.

“Get a grip, Loras,” Ros nudged. Margaery tutted loudly but soon Ros dove into a story and the tense atmosphere dissipated slightly.

Sansa took this opportunity to look around the cafeteria. She was curious to see her roommate and the two boys she seemed to only speak to. The weird thing was Sansa didn’t seem any of them. The cafeteria was crowded, but not so much that Sansa wouldn’t have been able to see one of them. She didn’t see any of them, for that matter.

However, her eyes did land on Myranda who was once against sitting across from the mysterious boy from blue. There was something about the way his eyes raked over people who walked by that unnerved her. His gaze swung over to her and Sans averted his eyes instantly, but she could still feel his eyes pin her down.

“Are you okay?” Margaery whispered carefully.

“Sansa took a chance glance back to the boy but his attention was on Myranda once again.

“I’m fine,” Sansa lied as fear flowered in her stomach.

 

* * *

“Alright girls, off to bed!” Brienne bellowed down the hall.

Margaery gave Sansa a sad smile as she walked her to the door of their dorm. After dinner, Margaery, Ros, and Sansa had spent the rest of the evening in their dorm room talking. It was mostly about silly things, Ros having a seemingly endless variety of topics to discuss. Sansa had to say she was impressed. Ros certainly was a gifted entertainer.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Margaery smiled sweetly. Sansa felt warmed by it.

“Yeah, good night,” Sansa grinned. Even though her second day at Harrenhal had been far from perfect, it was still nice to finally have a friend, _and she had two!_ Three, if she were to count Loras but Sansa was a little weary of it. He hadn’t spoken a word more than he had to ever since this morning.

Sansa made her way over to her dorm. She noticed the whiteboard that hung from her door was still blank and Sansa imagined it had been that way for a long time. Her roommate seemed to be ambivalent to doing anything with the rest of the group.

Slipping into the room, Sansa noticed it was just like yesterday. The room was dark and her roommate was buried beneath her covers. Sansa wondered if her roommate was even really sleeping or she was just waiting for everyone else to so she could slip out to God knows where. That also brought up the resounding question of if her roommate even did sleep.

Sansa turned on her lamp on so she could see as she got dressed for bed. Technically lights didn’t have to be out just yet. She had a few minutes of light left and Sansa was going to use them.

Once she was dressed, Sansa carefully approached her roommate’s bed. There was really only one way to get to the bottom of this. She was not going to wait around forever without at least knowing the girl’s name.

“Hello?” Sansa stage whispered as she stood a meter way from the bed. The blankets didn’t stir so Sansa tried again, “Hello, it’s your roommate.”

There was still nothing. Sighing loudly in hopes her roommate would hear her if she was pretending, Sansa carefully closed the distance between her and the bed and grabbed the edge of the sheet. Before Sansa could follow through with the action, the girl beneath the covered ripped them off her and sat up in the bed.

Sansa jumped back in surprised, with her hand over her heart. Sansa and the younger girl locked eyes, steel grey striking river blue. The girl remained motionless, simply sitting and staring at Sansa with an emotionless face. Sansa licked her lips hesitantly as she tried to think of something decent to say.

“Hi, I’m Sansa. Sorry about that,” Sansa apologized lamely, not quite sure where to go with this. “I just wanted to talk to you for a moment.”

“What?” the girl hissed. It was the first word Sansa had actually heard her roommate say.

“Well, what’s your name?” Sansa smiled awkwardly as she wringed her hands together in front of her. “We are roommates after all so we should get to know each other.”

The girl’s shoulders lowered and Sansa just realized how tense the girl had been sitting. She was like a tightly wound wire ready to snap. The girl’s eyes never left Sansa. “Just because we are rooming together, doesn’t make us friends.”

Sansa would admit she was hurt by the girl’s words. “I know, but we should at least be on a first name basis.”

The girl seemed to ignore Sansa as she settled back into her bed, throwing the covers over her head. Sansa was stunned by the complete disregard she was shown. The girl couldn’t even spare her a name!

“Can you turn off the light?” the girl muttered lowly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

_So you can sneak out again?_ “What’s your name?” Sansa crossed her arms even though the girl couldn’t see.

“Arya, now turn off the lights.”

_Arya, huh?_ Sansa complied, turning off the lights as she crawled into her bed. _Arya_. It was an odd name, one Sansa had never heard before, but she liked it. It was unique.

“Good night, Arya!” Sansa said cheerily. If they were going to be friends, Sansa could at least be nice. They didn’t have to live in a hostile living situation. Sansa knew the lifestyle all too well and wasn’t eager to return so quickly.

She didn’t expect a response and she didn’t get one. Sansa curled under the stiff blankets and face the wall. If her roommate was going to sneak out again, she didn’t want to bear witness. Not when Mrs. Baratheon would be coming to visitation this weekend and hopefully see that Sansa was fine and ready to come back! There was no need to cause any trouble. She just needed to keep calm and keep her head down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hi. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and now that Arya has been named, she will be featuring a whole lot more and it'll shift to her POV in later chapters as well!
> 
> Next chapter is Visitation and we'll get cameos from other pairings as well as some plotty stuff. Until next time!
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	4. Visitation

Sansa was brimming with excitement. While she had only been at Harrenhal for less than a week, she was already missing home- well, the Baratheon household. Although she wouldn’t be going home today, she would get a small taste of it. After all, it was Visitation Saturday and Mrs. Baratheon would be coming to see her!

She awoke early in the morning, so early that Arya was still gods know where. Ever since their first and only talk a few days prior, Arya had made a point of avoid Sansa during the day and continuing her nightly outings, although she was still secretive about the whole thing. Sansa had yet to question the younger girl on it, but she couldn’t help but be curious as to where Arya went off to and how she managed to be so successful at it. How had no one caught her yet? Something was strange about the whole thing.

But she wouldn’t think of that today. She wouldn’t think of anything besides Mrs. Baratheon. She wouldn’t think of the crappy food at Harrenhal. She wouldn’t think of her distant and disappearing roommate. She wouldn’t think of Loras Tyrell and his persistent questions and paranoia. She wouldn’t think about her awkward and cringe-worthy therapy sessions with the creepy Dr. Baelish. None of that mattered.  Not today, at least.

Sansa was already dressed and putting her hair into place when Arya returned. The two girls made eye contact, but Arya was the first to break it and dove under the covers. Arya could avoid her today, that was fine, but she would have to face Sansa eventually and Sansa was going to get to the bottom of these outings one day, just not _today_.

At eight thirty, Margaery came to the door and insisted that they go to visitation together. Margaery explained that Ros had no one coming to visit so it would just be the two of them today. She called it a date and while the words meant nothing to her, Sansa’s stomach couldn’t help but squirm at the thought. When Sansa inquired about Loras, Margaery shifted the subject immediately to Sansa and her visitation.

“Who is coming for you?” Margaery asked as they descended down the stairs. Sansa was still lost on where the hell they were going but Margaery seemed to know it like the back of her hands, further reminding Sansa of how long the girl had been there for.

“My foster mother,” Sansa answered timidly. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve changed much and I just want to go home,” Sansa admitted lightly. “It’s not awful here, but, _you know_ , it’s not home.”

“Don’t worry,” Margaery grabbed her hand lightly, “everything is going to be alright.”

Margaery led Sansa through the double door marked visitation. They were almost immediately met with a wall with a large glass window and a set of benches. On the other side of the glass was a long hall with tables and chairs, about fifty. There were already people filling in from the one side of the room. Some were old and some were young. Sansa recognized them as visitors.

On her side of the glass were other guests who were here to see their loved ons. Sansa recognized a few of them but most of them paid her little to no attention. Their focuses were on the visitors. Sansa scanned the flood of visitors and was disheartened to find Mrs. Baratheon not among them.

Margaery read her face, “Maybe she is running late.”

“Probably,” Sansa murmured as she settled on the little bench beside Margaery.

One of the administrative workers of Harrenhal opened a door at the far end of the hall and waved the guests to come and see their visitors. Margaery didn’t move and when Sansa sent her a questioning look, she didn’t answer.

* * *

Sansa and Margaery sat on the bench looking through the window to the visitation center as visitors and guests hugged each other and took their seats at different tables. Sansa was still excited to see Mrs. Baratheon and hopefully show her how much she had improved already so she could just go home. She just had to wait for the woman to show up.

"I bet you're anxious," Margaery hummed.

"I am," Sansa murmured. "It's nerve-wracking."

"I know what you mean," Margaery smiled fondly. "My grandmother used to visit Loras and me when we first started going here. I didn't want to at first because I was scared of what she would think, but soon Saturdays became my favorite days here."

"Is your grandmother coming today?"

"No," Margaery looked down at her knees. "She is ill. Hospice."

Sansa's heart went out to Margaery. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Its fine," Margaery waved off with somber smile. "I just people watch now. No one comes to visit Loras and me anymore, but that’s okay." Margaery scanned the room before her eyes landed on someone and she jumped up excitedly. "Oh yes! He's here!"

"Who?" Sansa asked wide-eyed and curious. She tried to follow Margaery’s eye line but got lost in the crowd of people. She couldn’t pin-point who Margaery had spotted.

"I don't know his name," Margaery admitted sheepishly, "but he comes and visits every week for the past four years. He's the guy over there in the black."

Margaery pointed to the far corner of the room opposite of them and away from the windows. It was literally the darkest, most seclude corner of the whole visitation center with one corner nearly crammed into it. The surrounded tables were empty, just leaving the guy Margaery had spotted alone.

The guy she was pointed at was young, only a few years older than Sansa, perhaps Loras' age. He had dark black hair and black eyes. His skin was pale and his expression was sullen and reserved. He was very nicely dressed and wore all black. In his hands was a small thin black ribbon. There was something about his guarded eyes that squirmed with familiarity in Sansa’s stomach but she couldn’t think as to why. Then again, she was getting that feeling a lot and it could be something completely different.  

"He comes and visits his girlfriend," Margaery whispered secretly. "It's really sweet but so sad and tragic."

"Why?" Sansa asked. The guy looked nervous and anxious. His familiar black eyes kept flicking up and away from the ribbon to scan around the room. His foot was tapping anxiously against the linoleum. He continued to fidget with the black ribbon in his hands, but with a more tender nature. It was almost like a soft petting.

"His girlfriend is from Tower Green," Margaery explained. "I don't know the whole story but from what I've heard and observed she was a drug addict and got mixed up with some pretty hardcore stuff. She ended up in the hospital before being transferred here. I don't think she ever recovered."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," Margaery said simply as she nodded her head down the hall toward the door they had entered through earlier.

Sansa turned to see Brienne and a large man. They were helping a tall girl with wild red hair walk down the hallway. She was roughly the boy’s age. She didn't seem to have any physical abnormalities but her eyes were vacant and she didn't seem to be aware of what was going on, let alone where she was going. Her pace was a slow and steady shuffle, her feet barely leaving the floor for each of her steps. Sansa felt something drop in her stomach as she watched them lead her into the visitation center. While at first glance the woman seemed fine, one look into her dead eyes told a completely different story.

The sullen boy stood up rapidly at the sight of the vacant red haired girl, his eyes wide and soft on her in a way Sansa had only read about in books. She was looking at him but Sansa could see she didn't really see him. It was like she was looking right through him and from the boy’s expression, he knew this as well but swallowed down any sadness he might have felt.

Brienne and the other man sat her down in the chair oppose of the boy and left to give them space and privacy. Brienne left the room all together but the man took a position along the wall of the visitation center watching with hard eyes and a redden face.

“Who is that?” Sansa asked as she gestured to the round man that had brought the girl in.

“Officer Bowen Marsh,” Margaery filled in breezily. “I think he is the assigned Warden of Green but I really only ever see him when he is in here with her. He mostly stays in the Tower with the Greens.”

Sansa nodded her head, absorbing the information before turning to look at the couple in the dark secluded corner.

The boy was speaking, she could tell by the faint movement of his lips. Sansa couldn’t hear what but she watched as he reached across the table and grabbed her thin, bony hand. The girl didn't even react to his touch but he didn't show any signs of disheartening. He just continued to speak, winding the thin black ribbon around her hand, rubbing the softness of it against her palm. She continued to stare forward unaffected. It was as if the feeling in her hand was gone and she was numb to everything. It hurt to watch. Sansa could feel the pain stabbing into her chest.

"He brings her presents every time he visits," Margaery spoke once more. "They are always little trinkets and small objects. I think he is trying to get her to remember or react, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything. You can see that he still cares deeply about her though."

"Four years," Sansa breathed in awe. That’s a long time to be living in tragedy, having your heart broken over and over again.

"It's a romantic tragedy." Margaery nodded her head. "I've been watching them ever since she was admitted. I wish there was something I could do, but the damage looks permanent. I don’t think she even knows what is going on, let alone that quite possibly the love of her life is standing right in front of her."

"And he still tries."

"Yeah," Margaery swallowed. The guy had both of the red haired girl’s hands in his own and was rubbing his thumb over the backs. He bought one up to his mouth and kissed it but there was still no reaction from the girl. This time Sansa could see the disappointment fill his dark eyes.

Sansa tore her gaze away. She couldn’t watch anymore. "Do you know her name?"

"No," Margaery sighed. "She sometimes comes to our dinning sessions though. For the most part, she stays in the tower with the rest of them. The Greens have their own schedule, doctors, and supervisors. They hardly ever cross over with the other towers."

Sansa nodded her head solemnly as she scanned the rest of the room. She recognized a few of the people in the room from her tower and communal dinning. Sansa only stopped her gaze when she recognized a particular person she had only saw once from afar.

"That's the boy from blue Myranda was talking to." Sansa nodded her head in the direction.

There he was sitting in the middle of the room, talking in a low cryptic voice to another young man across from him. His visitor was horrible thin and almost fragile looking. Sansa could see that he was very handsome but the way he held himself and the fear in his eyes diminished that greatly. Sansa thought he looked familiar but she couldn't place the guy. Still her eyes were glued on him.

"Ramsay," Margaery named him with distaste. "Whatever you do, stay away from him."

"Why?" Sansa asked. She had been getting bad feelings about him every time she saw him. She wanted to know what her instincts were picking up on.

"I don't like spreading rumors, but this is a warning. He's sadistic, Sansa. That's the reason why he is in here. They say he has killed people. I don't know if that is true or not but I don't want to find out." Margaery looked over at him. "The guy visits him almost every week as well. Every time he comes he looks worse and worse."

"Do you think Ramsay is hurting him?"

Margaery swallowed. "It's something I don't want to dwell on. If he is there is nothing I can do about it. I can only watch with knowledge of it."

_Ignorance is bliss_ , Sansa thought.

* * *

Time drifted by slowly. Sansa checked the wall clock every few minutes in hopes Mrs. Baratheon was just running late. Margaery helped though. She distracted Sansa with talks of the sullen boy and the red haired girl from green.

Even still, it was beginning to close in to three o’clock, the end of visitation, and Mrs. Baratheon had yet to show up. Perhaps something came up! Or there was an emergency! Surely, there was a reason Mrs. Baratheon had failed to show up today on visitation. It still hurt though. If Sansa were alone, she might have actually cried, but with Margaery there she felt slightly better.

“I’m sorry,” Margaery murmured at the visitation center began to clear out.

“Its fine,” Sansa straightened her shoulders. “Next week, right?”

Sansa and Margaery both feel silent as Ramsay from Blue walked in. Immediately, an administrator was at his shoulders but he didn’t seem to mind or care. His eyes landed on Sansa’s and a small glint came to his eyes.

“The She-Wolf has joined us, huh?” he asked, chuckling softly as he walked by.

The words made zero sense to Sansa but it felt as if she had been submerged in ice.

“Ignore him,” Margaery hissed. “He says crazy shit all the time.”

“Right,” Sansa swallowed as her eyes went to the boy Ramsay had left. He was still sitting at the table, looking down at the hard surface. His lips were moving very so slightly, like he was murmuring to himself and his hands were shaking in a slight tremor. “Is he going to be okay?”

“If he is associating himself with Ramsay, probably not,” Margaery conceded. “But don’t dwell on them. Nothing good can come from that.”

Margaery smiled softly but it dropped as Officer Bowen Marsh moved across the floor. Sansa’s eyes followed him as he walked to the tragic couple in the corner. Perhaps she was imagining it, but Sansa got a cold feeling as the sullen boy and Marsh made eye contact. The sullen boy dropped the red head’s hand and Marsh helped her to her feet in a very sterile uncaring manner. Without a single word being exchanged, Marsh led her out of the room. Sansa tore her eyes away from the girl and Marsh, focusing on the dark boy who watched his love walked away without her even realizing who she was leaving behind.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Margaery sighed.

“Maybe there is,” Sansa blinked, realization sparking in her chest making her forget all about Mrs. Baratheon and her absence.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on,” Sansa stood up and dragged Margaery behind her. “Let’s find Brienne.”

* * *

Sansa was thrilled but also dejected as she made it to her tower without Margaery’s assistance. It meant that she was getting used to Harrenhal, which was bittersweet. She tried not to think about it as she knocked rapidly on Brienne’s door.

“Sansa,” Brienne opened it, “Margaery, how can I help you two?”

“I had a few questions,” Sansa explained. “Can we come in?”

“Sure,” Brienne opened the door wider to let them in.

Her room was the same size as all the other dorms except instead of two beds, there was one. Where there should have been another bed were a desk and a few chairs, providing a decent office for Brienne. The room was pretty bland, much like Sansa and Arya’s room.

The only eye catching thing in Brienne’s room was a large ornate sword that hung from the wall like art work. The steel was unlike anything Sansa had seen before and it looked extremely expensive. Black and red ripples dipped into the blade of the sword and the pommel was a golden lion’s head with ruby eyes. If Sansa had to guess, the sword looked almost original to the castle of Harrenhal. She wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case.

Brienne gestured for them to sit down. Sansa sat eagerly and Margaery much more hesitantly. Margaery had a look of confusion on her face.

“What questions can I answer?” Brienne sat before them, looking between Sansa and Margaery curiously.

“I was wondering if we were allowed to help out around Harrenhal,” Sansa beamed her brightest, most innocent smile. The one Myrcella used on her father and had taught Sansa.

“How so?” Brienne narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“Well,” Sansa sat up straight, “we were at Visitation today and noticed that one of the girls that was brought there looked lonely. She is from Green and seems to get her only social contact during Saturday.”

Margaery seemed to pick up where Sansa was going and immediately jumped in, “Cognitive research shows that social stimulation does wonders for mental and physical ailments.”

Brienne pursed her lips. “I’m not the Warden of Tower Green so I can’t make any decisions based on their guests, you know this Margaery.”

“But,” Margaery quickly responded, “you can talked to Mr. Marsh and see if he would consider it. It could be our afternoon activities instead of hanging out in the yard or the tower.”

“Like a couple of hours a week,” Sansa added. “She just looks like she could use a friend.”

“You two are talking about Ygritte, correct?” Brienne sighed tiredly. “The red haired girl who gets visited by-” Brienne cut herself short, seeming to think she revealed too much and changed her sentence. “I’ll talk to Marsh, but I’m not promising anything. He is completely in charge in Tower Green and he doesn’t like interference, even from co-workers.”

“Of course,” Margaery smiled graciously. “We just wanted to throw the idea out there.”

“Anything else?” Brienne asked.

Both girls shook their heads and Brienne led them to the door. “Margaery, can you give me and Sansa a quick second alone?”

Margaery’s eyes widened and she nodded her head. “I’ll be in my room,” she whispered quickly to Sansa before disappearing down the hallway.

“How is your roommate situation?” Brienne asked, her eyes scanned Sansa’s face.

“Arya and I get along fine,” she used the name she had learned proudly. It made it seem like they were closer than they were.

Brienne didn’t say anything for a long time. Sansa gathered that perhaps she was expecting more from Sansa but Sansa barely had enough interactions with Arya to give any more. Hell, getting her name was tough enough.

“Excellent,” Brienne murmured. “I’m happy to see you are settling into Harrenhal.”

Sansa didn’t share the sentiment but nodded her head. “Anything else?”

“You are free to go,” Brienne waved her off.

* * *

“Loras, did you hear this crazy shit?” Ros jabbed him in the side as they sat down for dinner. Margaery threw Ros a glare and Sansa turned her attention to the table. “These two  _genius_ asked Brienne,  _the whack,_ if they can help out in Green where they keep all the real crazies.”

Loras frowned and looked his sister for further explanation. When Margaery didn’t answer or meet his eyes, realization came to his face. “Oh, Marge, is this about the girl from Green and her lover boy of four years?”

“What else would it be?” Ros cut in.

“Margaery, you shouldn’t stick your nose in other people’s business,” Loras warned.

“That’s a bit hypocritical,” Margaery shot back. Loras fell silent, his eyes avoiding Sansa once again. “Look, it’s no big deal.”

Ros didn’t look convinced but she shifted the conversation to Sansa. “How’d it go with your folks?”

Sansa blinked and looked down sadly at the table. “They didn’t show up.”

Loras glanced back up but didn’t say anything. Ros reached across the table for her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve been here for three years and no one has once come and visited me.”

“ _Ros_ ,” Margaery hissed. “They might have just been busy. Worse comes to worse, you can just call them. Brienne has a phone.”

“You have their number?” Loras asked. Margaery stiffened beside Sansa and she wondered if it was the paranoia again.

“The house number,” Sansa murmured, “and my foster sister’s number. Maybe I’ll give them a call.”

“Just ask Brienne and she’ll let you have the phone for up to an hour if you are lucky,” Ros rolled her eyes.

The conversation hit a lull and Sansa decided to ask Loras a question this time. Maybe they could finally get over the slight hump of their earlier interactions.

“Who do you room with?” Sansa asked curiously, eyes on Loras.

He licked his lips. “A mute.”

Sansa blinked and Ros cackled. “He isn’t kidding! What’s his name? Wex or something?”

“Yeah, Wex,” Loras nodded his head. “We don’t hang out much. Really, none of the guys in my Tower do.”

“Really?” Sansa asked confused. From her own tower, it looked like all the girls (save for her roommate) got along exceptionally. She would have assumed the same for Tower Yellow.

“Nope,” Loras shrugged. “It doesn’t help that there are only a few of us and the age gape can be a little weird.”

“Oh,” Sansa murmured. “Wait! Maybe you can answer something for me,” Loras nodded his head and Sansa continued. “My roommate hangs out with two guys from your tower. A tall kid with dark brown hair and eyes. He is pretty muscular, from what I could see. The other one is short and kind of chubby. He had curly hair and-”

“You’re talking about Gendry and Hot Pie,” Loras cut her off with in a faint mutter. “I don’t really talk to them but I know who you are talking about.”

“Do you know anything about them?” Sansa leaned on the table with interest. This was the closest she would come to finding out information about her roommate without asking her directly.

“Can’t say I do,” Loras shrugged. “I can look into it for you if you want.”

“You’d do that?” Sansa’s eyes widened. “That’d be amazing.”

“Sure, sure,” Loras gave her a half smile. “It’ll be no problem.”

* * *

Sansa stood outside her dorm room and sighed heavily. It was time for bed and she had just finished saying her goodbyes Margaery and Ros and was about to head to her own room. She remembered that Arya would probably be there and if it were like all the other evenings, her roommate would be buried beneath the covers again.

Sansa opened the door and to her surprise, Arya was not asleep in the bed but rather laying underneath the bed with her legs sticking out. Sansa closed the door was stood frozen in her place. She could hear a faint scrapping noise and she could only wonder what the hell her roommate was doing.

“You don’t have to stare, you know,” Arya’s bored voice hit Sansa.

“What are you doing?”

Arya didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled herself out from underneath the bed and brushed off her shirt. A ton of dust came tumbling off her but she paid it no attention as she got into her bed. She barely glanced at Sansa as she pulled the covers over and disappeared for the night…or at least until she snuck out again.

Sansa tore her gaze away as she got herself ready for bed. Silence once again flooded the room. Sansa got into her bed and grabbed her diary. They technically didn’t have lights out until ten, they just usually slept earlier since Arya was always sleeping when Sansa came to the room. This was the first time it wouldn’t be the case. Sansa wasn’t going to let her roommate’s weird schedule dictate her own.

Flipping to the next blank page, Sansa began to fill it out with her plans for the Tower Green girl Ygritte. She was horribly aware that Dr. Baelish could at any time reclaim her diary so she left out much of the details. She didn’t trust the doctor, despite his kind smile and warming voice.

The only thing Sansa ever did write about honestly in her diary was her dreams. They were dreams after all, so they were pretty much useless. How much could Dr. Baelish dissect out of her dreams of snowy castles and wolves?

Her latest one had been an interesting one. She was in a castle in the mountains. When she looked out the paned windows, she could see they were on level with the clouds. The halls were filled with lemon cakes and green teas. The castle was abandoned and Sansa didn’t know why. When she had gone looking for people, she had stumbled across a large circular room.

It had been like a throne room except for in the middle there was a large hole. Sansa had crept toward the center of the room and looked down to see the hole was to the outside word with a six hundred foot drop. Then she had been pushed and she fell.

Sansa had woken up after that dream in a cold sweat. She wondered how her mind could come up with such things and she figured a lot of the influence came from Harrenhal. It would have to, even though she had dreams similar to this before she had even been to the Asylum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Sorry JonXYgritte shippers (what is that ship name?) their story line is probably one of that sadder ones...
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	5. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have finally decided to do some Arya POV. For the most part this fic will be Sansa POV, but after some debating, I've decided to sprinkle some in. There is plans for an Ygritte POV, but where she is right now, that won't be of much use.

“She doesn’t seem that bad,” Gendry admitted as his eyes drifted across the room. Arya administered a swift kick across the table. Hot Pit laughed at Gendry’s wince.

“She is too-” Arya paused trying to think of the right word “-needy.”

Gendry and Hot Pie shared a look before Gendry sighed, “How?”

Arya shrugged. “She wants to be my friend.” Gendry and Hot Pie turned around in their seats to look at the object of their conversation: Arya’s new roommate.

“Oh,” Hot Pie groaned mockingly as he turned back around to meet Arya’s eyes, “what a bitch.”

“Shut up.” She kicked Hot Pie this time around. “You two are lucky, you guys get to room together. I was _happy_ on my own with no roommate. I like being alone.”

“Happy is a relative term,” Gendry muttered, looking at their surroundings in distaste.

Arya glanced down at her slop in agreement. She pushed the tray of “food” away and settled her elbows on the table. “One day we will be out of here.” Hot Pie smirked in agreement while Gendry, from between the table, patted Arya’s knee.

“You know,” Gendry spoke up again, “maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea being friends with her, your roommate I mean.”

Arya narrowed her eyes at him. “And why is that?”

“Come on,” Gendry fixed her with his own scowl, “she is going to notice something is up and hiding what you do at night isn’t going to make her keep her mouth shut. Hell,” he turned his gaze back to Arya’s roommate and her friends. They were in the midst of their own conversation, laughing and talking animatedly. “She might have already told them.”

“Did Loras say anything to you?” Arya asked both of the boys, her eyes dancing from on to the other. That would be the only person from her roommate’s social circle that would be able to have that discussion with either Gendry or Hot Pie without it seeming misplaced.

“No,” Hot Pie snorted. “He might as well be like Wex, hardly talks to anyone at all, let alone us. He only ever hangs out with his sister.”

“I’m just saying,” Gendry pushed on with his point, “it might not be such a bad idea to at least be on her good side.”

“I don’t want to be on _any_ of her sides,” Arya crossed her arms with a huff.

“That’s all fine and good, but you can’t help how she perceives you and, well, you aren’t exactly…”

“Nice,” Hot Pie added and Arya stared him down.

“I was going to say agreeable,” Gendry sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly. “Look, just consider it, okay? The last thing you need is for her to start digging into your business without you knowing it.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the sneaky type,” Arya drawled not amused by the conversation.

“You don’t know anything about her,” Hot Pie pointed as he grabbed Arya’s abandoned tray after what seemed like minutes of silent consideration. “Lommy thought you were weak and innocent and well, you gave him that black eye as proof of otherwise.”

“He got what he deserved,” Arya shrugged off.

“This is all beside the point,” Gendry grumbled, hating the tangencies this conversation kept trailing on. “At least be nice to her.”

“I am nice.” Arya kicked him again under the table. He only rolled his eyes at response to the physical assault.

“If you keep hitting me, it is only going to further prove my point and make Qyburn freak out during my next physical.” He was smirking but Arya knew he wanted her to take his proposal seriously.

“Just be…Jeyne Poole nice,” Hot Pie smiled distantly, looking at Arya’s shoulder at the girl in question.

Arya rolled her eyes. “Your crush on her doesn’t make her an angel.”

“She is nice and you should strive for that,” he retorted flushed and heatedly.

“Fine, I’ll _try_.” Arya spun around in the bench so her back was to the two boys.

Her eyes drifted toward the other end of the cafeteria, away from her roommate and toward the vast crowd of other guests. Her eyes taking special interest in the inmates from the violent towers, she noted each one as she tried to remember who was who and who did what. She had a slight fascination with them, but only because they were going to serve her a purpose, she just wasn’t sure how she was going to factor that part in seamlessly. She was still working on that.

“Arya,” Gendry’s voice called out to her. She didn’t turn around but she did turn her head enough to show she was listening. “Look, if it is that big of a deal, forget about it. Just remember to keep an eye on your roommate. She could ruin everything if she wanted to.”

_I know_.

* * *

“How have you been?” Dr. Baelish regarded Arya bored.

It was her once a week session with Dr. Baelish and it was going as it usually went. Horribly brief and pointless, and Arya wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dr. Baelish seemed like he couldn’t care less about what Arya said or did during these sessions. His eyes almost never left his paper when she was present. Arya would wager that it had been approximately five years since Dr. Baelish actually looked her in the eyes. Their meets were always short, barely even ten minutes despite being given an hour for their sessions. Arya usually didn’t mind. His disinterest in her well-being made these sessions a lot easier to endure every week. Unfortunately, Dr. Baelish’s usually hurried pace had been replaced with a tedious drawl.

“Fine,” Arya muttered, playing with the hem of her grey shirt.

“Have you been reacting well with your medication?” Dr. Baelish asked as he scribbled her responses down.

“Yes.” Even though she hadn’t been actually swallowing those pills for at least seven years now and there was a mound of them just beyond the fence of the yard. It was wear she threw them after spitting them out.

“How are your classes?”

“Fantastic.” That was actually true. Arya had managed to move up at least two grade levels when she was first administered to Harrenhal. She had always been smart, at least in her opinion and the online courses had proven to be easy and downright tedious for her. Arya even knew that was impressive in normal society and she definitely thought it would have been impressive at Harrenhal, unfortunately the response to her achievements were more medications that she didn’t take so Arya learned that moving forward here was just a opportunity for them to move her back. That’s why she barely did anything in her classes anymore. What was the point?

“Have you been eating well?”

He would know the answer to that if he looked up from her file. “Of course.” To think this man had his PHD in psychology.

“Have you been having any problems with any of the other guests?”

Even if she was, she wouldn’t tell him he answer to that. She did once when she first came here. A girl had a nasty habit of pulling her hair during dinning hours and when she told Dr. Baelish he accused her of making waves in the calm waters. “Nope.”

Arya began to stand up from her chair as Dr. Baelish finished his final scribble.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Baelish looked up from her file and at her standing figure. She only stared at him in confusion. This was the end of the question list. It was always the end; it had been since she had been here for the past ten years. The questions never changed and the order never moved. “Please sit back down,” he nodded his head pointedly toward the chair. Arya sunk back into it skeptically. This was not the normal way their once a week meetings went. “You have a new roommate; tell me how that has been going for you.”

Arya wanted to scream. How many more times was she going to be hounded and pressed about her new roommate who she didn’t want to have anything to do with? She did find it curious the way Dr. Baelish was actually looking at her for an answer. It made Arya wonder why Dr. Baelish was so interested in the new girl. Surely, Sansa was a patient of Dr. Baelish’s as well; perhaps he was much more invested in her than he ever would be with Arya. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Dr. Baelish, even if he never verbally said it, made it clear that Arya was a lost cause in his eyes and she was destined here forever.

“She is fine,” Arya crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “We don’t talk much.”

“She mentioned that as well,” Dr. Baelish nodded knowingly. “Is there a reason as to why?”

Arya shrugged. “She has her own friends and I have mine.”

“Ever think of making friends with women instead of men?” Dr. Baelish asked suddenly and Arya didn’t like the implication of the question. He had brought this up once before. Her answer was the same.

“No,” she deadpanned.

He smirked, leaning back into his chair. “Does she remind you of anyone?”

“Should she?” Arya raised an eyebrow. He had asked this type of question before, a long time ago when Arya had first been admitted in Harrenhal. He asked her this question every now, like when she first started talking to Gendry or when Jeyne Poole had been attacked by Ramsay two years prior.

“You tell me.”

Arya sighed loudly through her nose. “No. I don’t know who she is.” And she didn’t care to.

“You dislike her,” Dr. Baelish stated it but Arya could hear the unasked question.

“No, I don’t know her. There is a difference.” Arya hated this. She didn’t want to discuss this any further with Dr. Baelish. She didn’t even want to discuss it with Gendry who had been pressing her all week on the matter since her roommate showed up at Harrenhal.

“I see,” Dr. Baelish sighed, waving his hand tiredly. “You can go. Head straight back to class. You know the drill. See you next week.”

Arya didn’t say a word as she got out of her chair and out of Dr. Baelish’s room. The only good thing about Dr. Baelish was that he didn’t even care enough to have her escorted back to her classroom which meant Arya could take her sweet old time. It was the only reason she cooperated with Baelish anymore.

Instead of heading down the hall toward her classroom, Arya pivoted and headed the opposite way. She wasn’t expected back in her class for another thirty minutes at the most and it was just enough time for her to try, once again, to get into _that_ room. Arya had been trying to do this for the past month but every time she went to check it out, there would be someone in her way and she would have to head back and wait a week for her next appointment with Dr. Baelish. She was getting tired of hitting this same brick wall every time.

Slowly, she reached the “Faculty Only” section of Harrenhal that was marked with a painted white wooden door and sharp black letters. She nudged to door open slightly. Peering in, she couldn’t see anyone inside. It wasn’t all the surprising; she had made it this far before since no one was ever in the hall. Hell, she had made it this far every single time she tried, it was when she actually got to the room of her desire that everything fell apart.

She crept slowly, keeping her footsteps light and quiet on the linoleum floor. She passed the first couple of rooms to thankfully find them all abandoned. It was easier that way, although she had snuck past them before with people inside. It was odd how little some people working here paid attention to her. Regardless, it worked to her advantage as she crept further down the hall. It was the fourth room that usually gave her problems.

Actually, the fourth office was the one see needed access to. Unfortunately, the owner of said room was always present. Sandor Clegane was close to being the bane of Arya’s existence, especially if he never left the damn security office.

Even as she approached the office and prayed that it was empty, she could see the light was on and she could hear the shuffling of paper work. The fact that Clegane had paper work was amusing all in itself because Gendry and she had a bet on whether or not the man could even read.

Sighing, Arya made her retreat back down the hall. She couldn’t do what she needed done with he was present and there was no point in trying to do much else. She was in a standstill as long as she couldn’t get inside the office. She was going to have to think of something else if she wanted to gain access to Clegane’s office without him inside. To do that she was going to need Gendry, Hot Pie and maybe even Lommy’s help and a plan.

While she was disappointed in the turn of events, she had to admit she felt better by having the setback. It would have been too easy to waltz right in there and then she’d have felt something was suspicious. It was a control thing, Gendry had warned her. Gendry also said it was a good thing because if they wanted to actually accomplish something they needed to be in control.

* * *

Arya could feel Gendry’s eyes on her back as she poured over her notes, trying to think of a plan to get into that damn office and get Sandor Clegane as far away from it as possible. She was in Gendry’s room, although she wasn’t strictly allowed to be. The Towers were divided and restricted by gender. Yellow and Blue were for the boys. Luckily, Hot Pie and Gendry shared a room so it was a well-kept secret of her presence. As long as no one noticed her coming and going (and no one ever did) they would be fine.

“You know there are so many other things you can do besides stare at me,” she murmured without looking up from her paper. By her calculations, she was going to need about fifteen minutes to actually do what she intended on doing, maybe more to get everything in order. That meant Clegane needed to be gone for at least that long, but hopefully longer for some breathing room.

Gendry shuffled behind her, grabbing a lock of her cropped hair interestedly. “Most of the things I’d want to do to entertain myself require your attention.”

“The window doesn’t require my attention,” Arya turned around to lock eyes with him.

Sighed, he glanced at the window before back at her. “You can plan later.”

“The longer we push this off, the longer we have to extend our plans,” Arya pointed out.

“We have a whole week to figure it out, right?” Gendry asked. “Us taking a few minutes together isn’t going to screw up anything. Actually, taking your mind off it might help. Your brain needs a break.”

“You just want to make out,” Arya sighed, but already abandoning the papers in front of her.

Gendry flushed at her boldness. “Well, I’m just saying it isn’t often we can when Hot Pie is around and since he isn’t here, I just thought…”

Arya smirked as she crawled onto his lap. “I know.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Really quick though, I can’t plan this in front of my roommate, she’ll get suspicious.”

“Really quick,” Gendry repeated earnestly, already bring his lips to hers.

They were dating, although Arya was always conflicted with the word since it was hard to date someone without going on dates, the word just didn’t seem to fit, but regardless, Arya and Gendry had been seeing each other romantically for a while now. It had started up suddenly a few years ago, catching Arya completely by surprise. But once she got her footing she realized this connection she had formed with him was one she didn’t want to throw away.

The thing was that Harrenhal wasn’t exactly a place ‘guests’ (or inmates, as Gendry referred to them as) were allowed to have relationships. According to the faculty, it disrupted the mental healing process. Arya just thought it was too much for them to keep up with, especially with some of the violent guests having severe emotional issues. So they kept it a secret, even Hot Pie didn’t know, although Gendry says he is suspicious.

“Okay,” Arya pulled away after a few minutes, “time to work.”

Gendry made a face Arya recognized as ‘can’t we go on a little longer?’ but as the head of this operation Arya had to be firm. With a quick peck on the lips, she turned back to her papers. “The window isn’t going to fix itself and it is arguably one of the more important parts of the plan.”

It took Gendry a full minute to pull himself off his bed and Arya watched from the corner of her eye as he crossed the room to Hot Pie’s side and began feeling underneath the mattress for the window tool, as they lamely were referring to it as. Of course, tools and sharp objects were strictly prohibited from anywhere in Harrenhal, but Arya had found a way around it.

It was a simple bolt that used to hold the rotting bleachers of the grounds together but Arya had been able to snatch the six inch bolt before they completely destroyed the bleachers. She had snuck it back to Gendry’s room where they hid it under Hot Pie’s bed. It’s where they hid all the tools they had acquired over the years. Hot Pie didn’t mind. If he did he didn’t say anything about it. He knew the importance of keeping them a secret and was more than willing to take this one for the team.

“Fuck,” Gendry hissed to himself. Arya looked up from her work. Gendry was still digging underneath the mattress.

“What?”

“I can’t find the bolt,” Gendry muttered. “Maybe Hot Pie has it.”

“He’s in the yard,” Arya reasoned. “He doesn’t need the bolt.”

“I know, but it isn’t here and it was yesterday when we were working on the window,” Gendry groaned, lifting the entirety of the mattress in order to search. Underneath was the sack of papers filled with Arya’s scrunched handwriting, a sharp broken piece of plate, and the pills Arya and Gendry stored and took turns throwing out in the yard. The broken shovel was gone but they both knew Hot Pie had that with him and the bolt was nowhere in sight.

Arya climbed off Gendry’s bed. “Where the hell could it be?” She began to search his side. It was a very important piece of their puzzle and with it missing, well their plans were for one put on hold but it also brought a whole other issue at hand. If the bolt was found by any of the faculty members, they would be forced to do a sweep of the building and then they’d find all the other tools stored under Hot Pie’s mattress. Even worse, if the bolt was found by another guest, possibly one of the violent guests, they now had a weapon in place and that was probably more dangerous than a sweep. They needed to find that bolt and fast. It couldn’t get into the wrong hands.

Their search, unfortunately, was cut short by a knock on the door.

Arya froze and turned to see Gendry watching her with big eyes. He quickly gestured to his bed and Arya got the message, sliding beneath it and praying that whoever was at the door would leave quickly.

She watched as Gendry’s sock covered feet crossed the room and then him open the door. She didn’t recognize shoes for the new person but recognized the voice.

“Hey, Gendry,” Loras’ smooth voice cut through the air.

“Loras,” Gendry coughed awkwardly. “Can I help you?” Arya knew that Gendry and Hot Pie mostly stuck to themselves so it was odd to see someone from their tower talking to them. Especially Loras, Arya couldn’t help but find it extremely suspicious. What did he want?

“Just wanted to chat,” Loras said. “Mind if I come in?”

Arya bit back a groan. She knew the answer already before Gendry spoke. “Sure.”

* * *

Arya groaned with relief as she sunk onto her bed. After Gendry had let Loras in, they ended up talking for nearly two hours. Arya ended up falling asleep underneath Gendry’s bed from boredom. From what she remembered and what Gendry reassured her with, nothing of importance was discussed. It had been mundane conversations, as far as either of them was concerned.

Arya had left shortly after Loras left and Gendry had made sure the route was clear. Dinner had been right around the corner and the close it came to the dinner bell, the riskier it was for her to be hanging out in the room.

She met Hot Pie at the base of the stairs where they both waited for Gendry before heading off the dinner. It had been a quiet affair, the only topic of discussion being the missing bolt. Hot Pie apparently hadn’t touched it for the past couple of days which meant it was probably stole by another guest. Arya didn’t like it one bit but Gendry and Hot Pie assured her that they were going to find it before it got into the wrong hands. Arya had left them with the question of “what if it already was in the wrong hands?”

Thankfully, she was now in the dark space of her room. If her roommate was following her usually routine, Arya had at least an hour to herself. Arya fell onto her bed, melting into the mattress. Gendry’s floor wasn’t exactly comfortable and she was tired. Sneaking out at night didn’t do wonders for her exhaustion levels, but it was a necessary evil.

Arya must have drifted off at some point because one minute she was thinking about Gendry’s unbearably hard floor and the next she was being awakened by a loud knock on the door.

She shot up like a rocket. Arya noticed her roommate had entered the room at some point and was in the midst of dressing. Both of them exchanged a look of confusion as another knock came to the door.

Taking charge, Arya crept from her bed and opened the door. Brienne was standing there and regarded Arya before peering in to see Sansa.

“A word?” she request of Sansa and Arya watched as Sansa left the room.

Brienne closed the door for privacy, but there was only so much a door could separate. Arya pressed her ear to the wooden door.

“I talked to Mr. Marsh about your proposal,” Brienne stated. Arya frowned. What did her roommate want to do with the Warden of Tower Green? “It took some convincing but he has agreed one a single meeting. After that we will discuss how to proceed.”

“Really?” Arya’s roommate gasped excitedly. “When?”

“After your meeting with Dr. Baelish tomorrow, I will escort you and Margaery to the Tower. From there you will be under Mr. Marsh’s supervision. You will heed his instructions, understood? We don’t usually allow this sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Sansa agreed instantly. Arya curiosity was getting the better of her.

“Good, I’ll let you fill in Margaery tomorrow. Now, lights out.”

Arya barely had time to race back to her bed and slide beneath the covers as Sansa entered the room. Arya watched through a crack in the blankets as Sansa smiled happily and finished preparing for bed. She was humming a song that Arya couldn’t place but had heard before.

* * *

Arya waited two hours before emerging from the blankets. It was dark in the room, but Arya’s eyes had adjusted long ago. She glanced over at her roommate to see Sansa twisting and turning in the bed.

For the bright exterior that Sansa tried to show, Arya knew that was not the case during the night. Her roommate seemed to be plagued with nightmares. If Arya didn’t have other things to worry about, she probably would have wakened Sansa up from these nightmares. But she didn’t. They gave her a nice escape cover during the night.

Arya pulled on her shoes as she listened to Sansa whisper fearfully to herself.

“No,” she cried faintly, “he’s coming. My brother, he’s coming for you.”

Arya wasn’t sure if the brother of Sansa’s dreams was real or not, but she had heard about him enough times over the course of Sansa’s week-long stay. A commander of armies, a crippled boy, riding on the backs of wolves, taking the black. None of it made any sense to Arya but it wasn’t her place to say so. Sansa was in an Asylum for a reason.

Grabbing her jacket, Arya crept toward the door of the room. She turned to glance back at Sansa once more. Her whimpers had died now, but she was still stirring beneath the sheets. Arya gave it no more thought as she opened the door and slipped out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all for reading :) Also, thank you for your patience with me and this story. I'll update when I can! I have way too many plans for this fic to abandon it now :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


	6. Assistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you and apology to those who have to poke me awake on this story. I promise you I haven't forgotten it, I just am horrible with time management even though I try sooooo THANK YOU FOR KEEPING ME GOING and SORRY FOR BEING HORRIBLE AT UPDATES!

“So, last but not least, we need to discuss your _extracurricular_ activity that you will be doing today,” Dr. Baelish watched Sansa carefully. She willed herself to remain strong under his gaze with her back straight. She nodded her head and he continued, “I would like to start off giving you a word of caution.”

“About Ygritte?” Sansa asked, remembering the girl in question’s name.

“No, about Tower Green. There is a reason we have them separated from the rest of the guests. They aren’t stable.” Sansa wanted to go out on a limb of if they were in an asylum then none of them were really stable. “I’m just worried that you might see something there that might be doing you more harm than the good you are trying to do.”

“I appreciate your warning,” Sansa toyed with her lip. “But I still want to give it a shot.” To help someone when she couldn’t even help herself.

“You have a good heart,” Dr. Baelish praised. “I hope you are able to achieve your mission.”

“Mission?” Sansa blinked.

“I assume you want to help cure the young lady so she can be released,” Dr. Baelish leaned back in his chair. “Am I wrong in that assessment?”

“No, sir.”

“Just,” he shuffled some of the pages on his desk absently, “don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work. She has been here for a long time and our highly trained professionals have made little to no progress.”

“Margaery and I would just like to keep her company. It must be lonely, being stuck in your own head.” Sansa was looking at her knees in favor of making eye contact with Baelish.

“Indeed,” Dr. Baelish’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Well, I’m sure Tarth is waiting for you,” he glanced at his watch. “Don’t want to be late, do you?”

Sansa stood up instantly. “No, thank you, Dr. Baelish.”

“ _Petyr_ ,” he insisted, but Sansa knew she would never call him that. “I’ll see you at our next meeting.”

Sansa gave her best smile, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt and she scurried out of the office. Brienne was waiting patiently there and began walking in silence. Brienne always seemed to know what to do. Sansa was appreciative of that.

* * *

Margaery was waiting at the base of the stair case of the Green Tower when Sansa and Brienne walked up. Silently, Brienne led them both up the stairs and they followed closely behind. It wasn’t every day guests from other towers got to go to Green. Ros had explained expertly that guests who went to Green stayed in Green. No one actively sought it out. Then again, no one else had a reason to do so. Sansa and Margaery did, no matter how frivolous and pitifully optimistic it might be.

To their surprise, rather than a basic double door at the top of the stair case like their own tower, Tower Green’s door had a complex security lock on it. Sansa watched as Brienne reached into her front left pocket and pulled out an ID card. Margaery had explained that while Harrenhal had many places that were monitored and unavailable to students, only a select few actually had passcodes and were locked. Tower Green seemed to be one of those select few.

With a loud screech, the doors opened and Brienne let them through.

While the layout of the Tower was identical to Purple, Sansa couldn’t help but feel anxiety flood her chest. The walls were sterile and there were no personal affects anywhere, quite the opposite of her tower. The hallway was sparse, the only object being a large industrial looking cabinet that had four locks on it. Sansa also noticed large metal locks on each door. It didn’t look humane, but, then again, she had never been in a facility like this before. She wasn’t sure what was normal.

Brienne turned to the first door and knocked. Going by the lay out, it would be the same room Brienne occupied in Purple so it probably belonged to Warden Marsh. That thought was confirmed when he opened it and stepped out, beady eyed and not amused. He narrowed his eyes on both Margaery and her before giving Brienne a dark look.

“What are your names?” He asked, his eyes locking with Sansa’s.

“Margaery Tyrell,” Margaery squeaked.

“Sansa Stone,” Sansa swallowed, not able to maintain eye contact.

Warden Marsh seemed satisfied with that response. “Alright ladies, I haven’t the slightest idea as to why you want to do this, but,” he had begun leading them down the hall to presumably Ygritte’s room, “we have to go over some ground rules.”

Margaery and Sansa both nodded their heads quickly. Brienne watched over them carefully, like a mother goose.

“First,” Marsh held up on chubby finger, “under no circumstances is the door to be closed. I’ll give you the privacy of the room, but I will be right outside the door with Tarth.” He spat the name out in disgust. “Second,” another chubby finger joined the first, “you have thirty minutes, no more than that so make it count.” A third finger came up. “Third, no giving her anything and keep physical contact limited. We have provided two chairs for you.” Marsh dropped his hand. “Lastly, this is a trial run. If there is any progress, hold your breath on that, I will _consider_ allowing this to continue. Make it count, ladies.”

Margaery and Sansa shared a look, but steeled themselves up for what they were about to do. Warden Marsh didn’t wait as he pulled out an archaic key ring and found the key marked ten, jammed it into the lock and opened the door. Marsh stepped aside for the two girls to enter, holding the door for them.

Margaery fearlessly led the way, Sansa hanging close by her side.

The room was the same size as Sansa’s own room. It held a small twin bed with stark white sheets and an old blanket folded at the foot. Rather than one chair, there were two for Margaery and Sansa. The chest at the base of the bed was locked shut. Additionally, there was a long wooden table pushed against the wall that would have been the place for another bed and was covered in a cluster of many knick knacks and personal items. The owner of the room was standing by the barred window, looking outside with dead eyes.

“Ygritte?” Margaery tried calling out to her. There was no movement from the red head, as if she hadn’t heard a thing. Margaery looked at Sansa for help but Sansa just shrugged, not quite sure how to proceed. Margaery took a daring step forward and tried calling out again. “Ygritte?”

Still nothing.

Sansa decided to slowly approach the girl, coming to the window. Sansa made sure to keep a decent amount of space between them as she came to stand beside her. Sansa could see her steel blue eyes dull as she looked at seemingly nothing. Ygritte’s window view was of the wilderness that surrounded Harrenhal. If you looked closely, you could see the tower of the church from the nearby town.

Slowly and cautiously, Sansa reached to touch Ygritte’s bare shoulder. She kept her moves painfully slow, as not to jolt the girl or spook her, although that didn’t seem possible in her current state.

“Ygritte,” Sansa whispered as her fingers reached the girl.

Unsurprisingly, the girl didn’t even react, but Sansa did, jumping back and flinching her hand away. Ygritte was ice cold, like the paved stones of Harrenhal. The girl was wearing a simply white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Sansa was dressed similar but wasn’t nearly as chilled. It was off putting to see the girl who looked kissed by fire to be so cold to the touch.

“Margaery, grab her blanket,” Sansa gestured to the personalized thick blanket that was folded at the end of the twin bed.

Margaery did as she was told and slowly approached as Sansa had done previously. Margaery came to the other side of Ygritte and carefully draped the blanket over her shoulders. She still didn’t react but Sansa focused on the blanket for a moment.

It wasn’t a full sized one, more like a baby blanket. From between the folds, Sansa could see patterns of snowy forests and arctic animals. It was faded from years of use, but Sansa could see it also carried a lot of sentiment. Sansa wondered if the boyfriend who visited her brought it for her or was that someone else, perhaps a family member.

“I like your blanket, Ygritte,” Sansa spoke again. Ygritte didn’t register it and Sansa continued. “I used to have a baby blanket like that. Mine had birds and wolves on it.” Sansa smiled fondly at the memory. “I don’t have it anymore, I wish I did though.” Mrs. Baratheon had gotten rid of it when Sansa was ten, deeming her too old for such a “ratty and disgusting thing.”

Suddenly, Ygritte moved. Margaery and Sansa watched completely still and silent as she slowly and ghostly drifted across the room, the blanket still firmly on her shoulders. She went to the long table and Margaery and Sansa followed quickly behind. Sansa wasn’t sure if Ygritte was moving as a reaction to her words or just on her own accord but it was the first movement the girl made and they were going to follow it to see where it led them.

Sansa watched as Ygritte’s eyes fell onto a snow globe near the back of the table that was over flowing with objects, some of seeming importance and others looking like trash and pointless knick knacks. The globe was of a winter scene, a tower church-like building in the center with a tiny wooden wall surrounding it. A river cut across the front of the fort. At the bottom in elegant script, the words _Hardhome_ were written in gold script. Little bones, arrows, and swords decorated the tarnished silver of the base.

Margaery pointed at that. “Is that where you are from? Hardhome?”

Ygritte didn’t move, instead her eyes moving to another possession on the opposite side of the table. This time it was a broken pocket watch. The face was cracked; the time was frozen on 7:28. The second hand was still twitching to move but never progressed past the thirteen second.

It hit Sansa that maybe Ygritte was _showing_ her possessions to Margaery and her. Sansa reached for watch and carefully picked it up. With her other hand, she gently grabbed Ygritte’s hand and put the watch in it, letting the golden chain pool in her palm. Ygritte didn’t feel it; Sansa assumed that if she dropped Ygritte’s hand the watch would end up on the floor a second later.

“Who gave you this?” Sansa asked in a whisper.

Ygritte’s eyes went to a photo at the very end of the table. Margaery seemed to catch what Ygritte was doing as well and picked up the photo. It was of Ygritte and the boyfriend who visited her. It was taken when they were teenagers, maybe eight or nine years ago, her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and she was grinning wildly, like a fire. Her red hair was blowing all over the place, leaves caught in it like they had just rolled around in autumn. Her boyfriend was giving what could probably pass for a smile, the corners of his lips tilted up. His long black hair was blowing in the wind too, mingling with hers. His arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her to his chest. A blur of a finger had been caught in the top left of the frame.

“What’s his name?” Margaery whispered quietly, gesturing to the boy.

Neither of them was discouraged at Ygritte’s silence. However, Ygritte’s eyes didn’t leave the picture. Her eyes focused on the man solely.

Carefully, Sansa grabbed the broken pocket watch from her palm and set it back on the table. She didn’t let go of Ygritte’ icy hand, trying to warm it with her own.

“He’s very handsome,” Margaery commented as they three of them looked at the picture.

“Yes, very pretty,” Sansa agreed.

Both of them froze as a small huff came from Ygritte’s parted lips. Both of them turned to look at her. She still was frozen, staring at the photo, but both of them heard it. It was almost like a _laugh?_

Both of them feeling revitalized by the reaction continued to talk about the photo, making comments on anything and everything, trying to draw another huff or twitch from Ygritte. They didn’t get another reaction but they weren’t deterred. Nothing else seemed to make her react, but the fact that they got _one_ was enough for them to try anything to get another.

They went through all the objects, Ygritte pointing at them with her eyes every now and then. Margaery held onto the photo, the only thing that seemed to warrant a reaction thus far. Sansa went through each object and pressed them into Ygritte’s hands, hoping to get something. She vaguely remembered the boy doing so with the velvet ribbon during the last visitation and sure enough the velvet ribbon was coiled on one of the corners of the table.  

Soon their time ran out and Warden Marsh came through the opened door. He regarded the three of them at the table with an unreadable expression. Sansa quickly set down the feather they had been trying out with Ygritte by dragging it over her palm and Margaery set the photo down, this time front and center on the table, propped up instead of flat on the table. On display, rather than stored.

“Alright, ladies, time is up.”

A funny thing happened then. While the movement was so small no one could see it, Sansa felt Ygritte tense at Marsh’s words. Margaery seemed to notice it too as her eyes snapped to Ygritte and then meeting Sansa’s widely.

“Right,” Sansa recovered quickly, throwing Ygritte a kind smile. “This was fun, Ygritte. Maybe we can come and visit again soon.”

“Yeah,” Margaery nodded earnestly, “it was nice talking with you.”

Ygritte of course was silent, but allowed herself to be led over to the bed where she sat heavily, the blanket dislodging from her shoulders and clumping on the bed without her notice. She was still facing the table, her eyes locked on the photo that was now propped up and in full view from the bed. Sansa was 100% certain that focus had to be a sign.

Marsh made a grunting sound and the two girls took that as the cue to leave the room. Outside, Brienne quietly guided them out of the room. Marsh stayed in the room, muttering something about medicine time and increasing a dose of a name Sansa didn’t catch.

* * *

 

“A laugh?” Ros looked unconvinced.

“She did!” Sansa exclaimed over the dining table. “I swear, right Margaery?”

Margaery pushed around the slop on her tray. “Maybe not a full laugh, but it was a close thing. She definitely reacted.”

“Do it,” Ros crossed her arms. Loras was sitting beside her and looked completely uninterested in the conversation at hand. “Repeat it for us.”

Determined, Sansa imitated the huff from Ygritte. Ros started cackling. Loras just shook his head.

“That was her taking a breath, nothing more.”

“No! You don’t know the context,” Sansa groaned, trying to get her friends (a word she thought she’d never get to use before coming here) to understand.

“Does one need context for breathing?” Loras sneered, although it wasn’t harsh, but pushing.

“Loras, it was something,” Margaery glared. “Why can’t you take our word for it?”

“Because you two are grasping at straw!” Loras hissed back. “Look, would it be nice for you two to reach this girl and get her back into a regular state of mind? Sure, that’d be the fucking tits.” Ros snickered at this choice of words. “But the thing is that isn’t going to happen. The chances are one and a million. I don’t want you getting your hopes up,” Loras cast Sansa a glance. “Either of you.”

“Well, we are going back, right?” Margaery met Sansa’s eyes. “We have to.”

“Hopefully Marsh will let us,” Sansa combed her fingers through her hair. “Otherwise we are screwed.”

“We are getting back in there no matter what,” Margaery crossed her arms determined, a fire dancing in her eyes. Sansa couldn’t help but agree full-heartedly, nodding her head along.

“Well, I think you two just proved your own reason of being here,” Ros winked. “I wish you luck in your pointless venture!”

Ros stood up to throw out her tray and Margaery followed, leaving Sansa and Loras alone.

“On another note,” Loras scooted down the bench to sit in front of Sansa, “I talked with Gendry.”

Sansa blinked. “You did? And what’d you find out?”

“First, I want to make a deal with you,” Loras locked his eyes with Sansa’s. “I need something in return.”

Sansa felt her heart sink. She didn’t really have _anything_ to give. “What?” she asked carefully.

“I want you to make a phone call for me,” Loras twisted his fingers in front of him on top of the table. “Remember when we first met last week and I was asking about your uncles?”

Sansa remembered the conversation and knew that if Margaery were here she would not approve. Perhaps this was the reason Loras was talking to her now while Margaery was with Ros.

“Yes,” she admitted weakly.

Loras looked over his shoulder to his sister before turning back to Sansa. “Don’t tell Margaery, but the reason I was so insisted is because…I know one of them.”

Sansa frowned. “You do?”

“We only met a _handful_ of times,” Loras rolled his shoulders. “But yes, I do. Margaery doesn’t remember him.”

“Who?”

“One the Baratheon side,” Loras kept his voice low, as if Margaery could hear from the other side of the loud cafeteria. “His name is Renly.”

Sansa had only met Renly a total of three times. He was the youngest of all her uncles, only about ten years older than her. “I know him.”

“I want you to call him and get him to come to a visitation,” Loras pressed, his eyes were pleading. “I want to speak to him.”

Sansa wasn’t even going to begin question what business Loras had with Renly. Not when she had to argue logistics. “I don’t know if he would do that,” Sansa looked at the table. It wasn’t like Renly knew her all that well.

Loras reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Please, just try. _Please_.”

Sansa could see there was something deeper going on, she just didn’t know _what_. Loras looked almost desperate, the grip on Sansa’s hand tightening until his knuckles were white. It almost hurt, but not as much as the despondency in Loras’ eyes. It was like she was a last hope for _whatever_ this was.

“I’ll try,” Sansa finally agreed. “I’ll call some people and see what I can do.” And by people, she meant Myrcella but she didn’t want to make Loras hopeless even though the prospect of actually getting Renly to show up was minimal.

The emotion that came to Loras’ face was nothing short of pure relief and gratitude. He gave her hand a final squeeze before dropping it.

“Right, so Gendry?”  he asked, resuming his cool exterior. Sansa nodded her head. “I didn’t get much, but I’m going to keep working on it for you,” he winked at this and Sansa smiled. “He is hiding something, I know that for a fact and I bet your roommate is involved. They are pretty chummy. He seemed nervous when I talked with him, although he didn’t say anything particularly interesting. I did however notice a tension the past couple of days with him and Hot Pie, _his_ roommate.”

“What kind of tension?” Sansa asked quickly.

“I don’t know,” Loras admitted. “It was like they were scared or nervous. I’m going to get to the bottom of it though, don’t worry. We owe each other.”

Margaery was coming back now with Ros in tow. Loras slide back to his seat and gave Sansa a firm nod. It was a deal.

* * *

“But you saw it right?” Margaery asked eagerly.

It was closing in on lights out; they were in the hallway, sitting beside Margaery’s door. Ros had teased them so much that they decided to move to the hallway for privacy (the irony in that statement had donned on them).

“How she was showing us everything?” Sansa whispered excitedly. “I think she is more there than they assume.”

“It’s like something is holding her back,” Margaery murmured. “And that thing with Warden Marsh. How she got all tension, but just for a second.”

“You caught that too?” Sansa inquired although she already knew the answer. “It’s like she is scared of him and she is trying to hide it or maybe can’t properly show it.”

“You don’t think he is mistreating her, do you?”

Sansa hadn’t thought of that, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go there. Harrenhal already was creepy enough without thinking of a Warden manipulating and abusing his mentally ill patients in a tower on the other side of the facility.

“I don’t know,” Sansa looked at her door, the white board still blank.

She felt Margaery’s hand slither onto her own and Sansa squeezed it. Neither of them let go, both using it as a silent pact to do whatever they could to help Ygritte.

* * *

 

When lights came, Sansa stood up and bid a goodbye to Margaery. She slipped into her room expecting the lights to be off already and her roommate to be under the covers, as per usual.

It wasn’t quite the case.

The room was trashing, possessions thrown every which way. Sansa looked at the torn off covers of Arya’s bed and clothes scattered across the room. Sansa’s own bed was in the process of being dismantled by Arya.

“What are you doing?” Sansa asked, trying to keep her tone from being furious.

Arya didn’t even acknowledge Sansa, continuing to rifle through Sansa’s belongings with a careless nature. Sansa crossed the room quickly, grapping the girl’s wrist and pulling her away.

“Let me go,” Arya snarled, yanking her arm away. She looked murderous even though _she_ was clearly the one in the wrong and not Sansa.

Sansa hissed, “What. Are. You. Doing?”

Arya shrugged, making her away back to her side of the room, kicking her clothing in the general direction of her trunk. “Nothing.”

“This,” Sansa gestured around the room, “doesn’t look like nothing!”

“I lost something.”

Sansa’s face pulled into an ugly glare. “Do you think I took it?”

“I don’t know,” Arya clambered on her bed. “Did you?”

“I don’t even know what _it_ is.”

“Whatever,” Arya curled beneath the blankets, blocking Sansa out.

Sansa watched in horrified disbelief. What the actual fuck? She knew her roommate was weird and off, everyone here had to be, but to go through her possessions? It was out of line. Sansa was almost tempted to go straight to Brienne but stopped herself. If what Arya lost was so important, she should have gone to Brienne herself, but she didn’t. That meant it had to be something that wasn’t allowed in Harrenhal.

Feeling the anger seep from her body, Sansa went to rearranging her things and getting ready for bed. Her curiosity about her roommate was too consuming for Sansa to get this whole roommate crisis sorted out. For now, she would continue to deal with Arya and her strangeness. Once Loras got her the information, she would make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> So, let me know what you all think and if it is worth continuing or not. This is a reincarnation piece but not everyone has their memories or full memories. As time goes on that'll change :)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


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